


Spilled Soup and Such

by dontcryMasha



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Awkward, Bottom Misha, Clumsy Misha, Cute, Fluff, Food Kink, M/M, Misha POV, Rich Jensen, Top Jensen Ackles, Waiter Misha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-02-10 17:57:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 36,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2034582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontcryMasha/pseuds/dontcryMasha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Misha is such a clumsy waiter that his boss gave him an ultimatum; “Spill one more order and you’re fired.” Of course, he has to spill soup all over Jensen Ackles, the hot, rich entrepreneur Misha’s been checking out from afar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Broken

He is rich, we all know that. It’s easy to tell because he dresses so nicely and always has an expensive watch on. Someone told me that he’s an entrepreneur. But even more important than the obvious amounts of money is how crazy attractive he is. I mean, this man has been sculpted from a block of marble by the very hands of God himself. He’s just _perfect_ looking. The angle of his jaw, the slightly pointed nose, the way he wets his plump pink lips with his tongue as he reads his tablet. It’s all just perfect. So perfect.

But he does _nothing_ to help my clumsiness, which has become increasingly problematic. It’s always been like that for me; falling off of walkways, tripping over the tiniest rock, dropping everything that touches my hands. It probably sounds crazy that I’m working as a waiter, but it was the only place that would hire me. I don’t have a good education and I really, really need money. I’ve been living in a studio apartment that has a pretty hefty rent, and since the career I’m striving towards hasn’t picked up yet, I had to do something. It’s metalworking, so jewelry and whatnot, and somehow that is the one thing I’m not at all clumsy with. It just takes some time to get started. A lot of money, too.

I have been holding it down alright at the restaurant for about four weeks. And by alright I mean my boss just told me, “Spill one more order and you’re fired.” So I guess I’m not holding it down alright.

“Okay. Sorry. It won’t happen again,” I tell him with a wide smile, attempting to cover up my embarrassment as I pick up the shattered cocktail on the tiles. On my way to the kitchen I see that the entrepreneur is there, sitting at a booth way in the back. He has his tablet out as usual, lightly sipping from the neck of a beer and sliding the screen from time to time. I know that his name is Jensen, because another waitress that works with me saw it on his credit card. It’s not creepy.

I continue my shift for another hour or so, and as I’m taking a tray with soup and salad to one side of the restaurant, I notice Jensen is getting up to leave. He passes me on the way out and our eyes lock, this little twinkle in his flickers at me and I lose my cool. My feet trip over each other and the tray falls, sending the salad shattering upon the floor and the soup—right at Jensen.

“OH MY GOSH!” I yell. The salad is ignored and I go straight to the soup that splattered onto Jensen’ pants; his wonderful, silky looking dress slacks. Having to talk to him sets my heart racing even more, but knowing I’m about to get fired seems to put it into a clearer perspective.

Jensen bends down and picks up the pieces of broken soup plate, practically ignoring what spilled on him, and smiles at me. “Don’t worry about it,” he says. His voice is as cool as an autumn day and his lips curve into a sweet smirk within a very short goatee.

My hands shake as I help him. “I am so, so sorry. I don’t—aah---I’m so clumsy! You aren’t—umm—hurt, are you?”

Jensen shakes his head, chuckling. “I’m fine, really. Don’t worry about it. But I think your customers will want a replacement soon.”

“Oh, right, right. Um. Wow. I’m—haa—I’m so sorry, again.” My voice just won’t formulate words correctly! Jensen’s freckled fingers hand me the pieces he picked up and he set them on the tray, which I then pick up. Before I can get another word in, my boss shows up and he isn’t happy.

“Really, Collins?” He grunts. “Right after my warning?”

“I’m sorry! I’ll just finish this shift and you won’t ever have to deal with me ever again. Ever!” I can feel my face heating up with one part embarrassment and one part shame. As I finish collecting the mess and head back to the kitchen with my tray, tail between my legs, my boss continues to berate me about my clumsiness, but this catches Jensen’s attention and he butts in.

“’Scuse me, but are you suggesting this man’s about to lose his job over the soup he spilled?”

My boss turns to Jensen and presses his lips together firmly. “Well yeah, but it’s really not your problem. This guy’s been giving me nothing but broken dishware since I hired him!”

“Well, not for nothing, but it wasn’t his fault that he dropped that order.”

I turn to look back at Jensen and see him smiling at me. My boss folds his arms. “Whatd’ya mean?”

“I mean that I distracted him. It was inappropriate for me to get his attention while he was carrying that load, and I’m gonna take full responsibility for it.”

My boss considers what Jensen says, nodding his eyes uneasily, then he looks back at me and asks, “That right? Did he mess you up?”

I stutter to speak as my eyes grow wide but I manage to blurt out, “y-yes! I wasn’t sure what else to do.”

Even though he seems to be unsure of Jensen’s statement, my boss allows it and says I’m still working for him, but _now_ if I spill anything else, I’m getting fired. I can live with that. Before I can thank Jensen, he’s gone.

* * *

_Get it together, Misha_ , I have to keep telling myself. So what if Jensen saved me from getting fired? So what if he smiled and looked fabulously at me? All that means is he’s a nice guy, nothing more. It doesn’t mean he’s interested, it doesn’t mean he likes me. It literally just means he’s a nice guy and did a nice thing for me. He probably felt sorry for me because I’m such a hopeless klutz. Maybe he goes around helping out people he feels bad for because it’s the least he can do, being wealthier and hotter and all that. _Yeah, probably_.

A couple days pass and I don’t see Jensen at all. A couple of the women I work with use his name in their chatter, but nothing more. I do my best to keep my balance and not fuck up and that works well. My boss is happy with my ability to remain calm.

But then Jensen comes around again. He takes his booth in the back, orders a beer and a blue plate special then just sits there and looks at his tablet for a while. I’m working tables on the opposite side of the restaurant but manag to sneak a few peeks when I slip in and out of the kitchen.

On my way back once, he looks up and right at me. I freeze in my tracks and let my mouth fall open. Jensen smiles and waves for me to come over. _No way?_

“Hey there,” he says when I get close enough. He holds his beer bottle up. “I was wondering if I could bother you for another beer?”

“Oh,” I say. Right, of course. He just wants another drink. Silly me. “Sure, I can do that.”

“Thanks a lot.” He grins and I walk back to the bar to grab him a new beer. When I come back, he takes it from me gently so that our fingers touch around the bottle. I feel my face heat up.

“You um, you need anything else?”

“Yeah.”

An awkward pause sits between us and I try to smile. He takes a sip of the beer and smacks his lips. “I want to know how you’re doing.”

“Me?” I ask in disbelief, but Jensen just chuckles.

“Yeah, you. I’ve been a little worried since your boss nearly fired you.”

“Oh, um, well, yes. Yes I’ve been bad about dropping things…breaking things…he says I’ve become a liability. But to be honest I can’t help it.”

Now I feel like I’ve talked too much. It’s been so long since I spoke face to face with a man this attractive, if ever.

“That’s too bad,” says Jensen. I nod slightly. “Wish there was something I could do.”

I almost lose it. For a brief moment, it occurs to me that he’s into me as much as I’m into him. My clumsiness is kicking in and I feel that I might lose my balance entirely. It must be obvious.

“Calm down there, bud. You’re fine.”

“Huh? What do you—ha—what?”

Jensen smirks and speaks softer. “You’re acting like I’m famous or something.”

“I’m not, it’s just, well, uh, see…”

“Listen,” says Jensen. He takes another sip of his beer. “Would it help if we got a drink sometime? Not here, of course.”

“Are you—ohh—ohh—are you—“ The words don’t come. I lock up. Jensen just shakes his head and jots down something on his napkin.

“Here. Give me a call, alright?”

I take the napkin very gingerly and see the digits scribbled down. This is the golden ticket. How did I get so lucky? How could this happen to me, and so quickly?!

 


	2. Making Assumptions

I go home and have a nervous breakdown. I am capable of subduing my ecstatic feelings throughout the journey back, but the moment I come in the front door, I lose it. I fall on my ass and pull my knees to my chest, heaving gasps and rocking on my feet. Jensen?! Beautiful Jensen?! Not only my hero but now giving his number out to me?

I stumble back onto my feet and manage to carry myself to the bathroom, where a take a valium to try and relax. I immediately close the lid of the toilet and plop down. I can’t calm down. My heart is racing. It’s been years since I had a date, and that one went _terribly_. Granted I was nineteen and nobody has good dates then, plus eight years gives you a lot of time to grow up. I’m sure most people would think something was wrong with me to have gone that long without a date, but lack of self-confidence can be quite detrimental, you know.

BUT JENSEN…

The medication doesn’t help, my heart continues to pound erratically. In a dizzy, almost drunken stupor of emotion, I manage to draw a bath and sit in it for a while. After I jerk off in the tub I feel a _little_ better, but I’m still thinking about Jensen nonstop. Of course, the next thing on my mind is if I could call him or not.

As I step out of the tub, grab a towel around my waist and take a couple long deep breaths, I know exactly what is coming. I’m going to make that call.

But first I pop another valium.

Then I go into the oh-so-homely space that I live in, sit on the folded up futon and look at my phone in one hand, the napkin in the other. Oh my gosh, even Jensen’s brisk handwriting looks good. So what do I do? I just call? Call him and say what? I practice a few lines first.

“Hey, Jensen. This is Misha. From The Four Lights. Where I work. And you wanted me to…shit, that’s stupid.”

I clear my throat and start over.

“Hi, Jensen. You gave me your number today so I thought I would call you and see what you wanted to do with me because you…hell…”

I’m not even talking to the man and I can’t think straight. Third time’s a charm.

“Hey, Jensen. This is Misha. You gave me your number today so I figured I would give you a call to…fuck…”

This is hopeless. I just need to call him.

I look at the number in my hand and begin to tap it into my phone. I pray in my head that the medication kicks in and kicks in _soon_. Before I know it, the phone is to my ear and it’s dialing out. I panic momentarily when I realize I might have to leave a message.

“Hello?”

Oh, God. It’s Jensen. His voice is as smooth as velvet and I just want to rub myself until I nut eternally.

“H-Hey, Jensen,” I say. I want to sound calm but the vibrations in my throat are quivering and stupid.

“Who is this?”

“Um, Misha. I, I got your number today.”

“The clumsy waiter?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” I tell him, smiling to myself slightly. Maybe I could have taken that as an insult but I think anything Jensen says will sound good to me.

“I’m glad you called. How are you?”

“Good…um…you?”

“I’m great. What’s up?”

“Um. Thought I would just, um, follow up on your offer.”

“Oh, cool. When do you want to do that?”

“Er. When’s good for you?”

“I’m flexible,” he says this and takes in a deep breath of air, then lets it out slowly. Oh, man. I’m actually talking to that hot guy. He’s actually on the other side of my phone. “So any evening next week.”

“Really? I think…huh…I think I’m free Monday.”

“When?”

“It doesn’t matter since I’m not working or anything.”

“6?”

“Okay. Yeah, that’s good. 6 works for me. Uh, but where?”                     

“I can leave that up to you.”

I tense up. “But I don’t know any good places!” spurts out of my mouth so quickly I don’t have time to worry about how dumb it makes me sound. But Jensen chuckles on the other side of the phone and reassures me, “Don’t worry about it. Then I’ll just pick—do you want to eat or just drink?”

“Both? Is that okay?

“Yeah, absolutely. How about Chad’s? Have you been there?”

“No…”

“It’s great. Look it up.”

“Okay! Um, I’ll see you then, right?”

Jensen chuckles louder now. “Alright,” he says. “6 o’clock on Monday at Chad’s.”

“Yeah! S-see you. Bye!”

The phone call ends and I die inside. I’m going to have drinks with Jensen, but is it a date?

* * *

It’s hard for me to focus. Work comes and goes like a weird, hazy nightmare. Half the time I want everything to stand still so I don’t have to worry about the “date”, but then I also want it to be Monday already. I guess the most nagging part is how I don’t know what Jensen’s intentions are. Had I be a woman, it would be obvious, but is Jensen gay? It’s impossible to tell and that has been driving me bat shit crazy.

“You okay?”

Jeannie, a waitress that I’m fairly close with, asks me on Sunday. I’m less than twenty-four hours away from meeting up with the handsome rich man, but I haven’t told anyone about it. I’m not going to. It’s none of their business, really, and since I don’t know Jensen’s intentions, I would hate to have false information spreading around the restaurant. Speaking of Jensen, I haven’t seen him at The Four Lights since our last chat.

“Yeah, just, well, just busy I guess.

“Ah, gotcha. Let me know if you need anything, alright?”

“Alright.”

I sigh to myself and continue wiping up a recently-emptied booth. They had a baby eating there and she really made a mess. I’ll need a broom and a mop to get the food off of the floor. But even as a toil away at the restaurant, my stomach churns as I stay fixated on Jensen. What’s going to happen? A million different scenarios play out in my head.

First I think of the ridiculously perfect story, where Jensen comes with flowers and takes me to this amazing restaurant, we chat and laugh, then as we’re leaving he pulls me in for a kiss. Maybe I go back to his place and we get it on. Oh, I haven’t had sex in while, I wonder if I’m still any good (or if I ever was)?

Then my mind tells me that’s stupid, and it is, so I drum up a horrible situation; Jensen takes me out and starts talking about his family. How he’s married and has kids, blah blah blah. I get all upset because, “Why are you taking me out if you’re married?!”

“Well I thought we were friends…what did _you_ think?!”

Jensen realizes I’m basically accusing him of being gay and he suddenly goes off. I get embarrassed and humiliated and he makes a spectacle of us both.

“No, no,” I tell myself as I go to the supply closet to get that broom and mop that I need, “It won’t go that way. He wouldn’t do that. Right? People don’t do that.” But no matter what I think, my thoughts go to one extreme or the other. We can’t settle on common ground and that makes my anxiety worse.

The shift is impossible but finally ends. I feel a cold sweat coming on as I head home. Sitting on the bus, I take out my phone and check up on this Chad’s place. The mobile site is fancy and difficult to navigate. I just want to find the menu and get an idea of what I’m in for.

_Pan Roasted Salmon…24_

“Twenty-four dollars?!”

I gasp out loud but literally nobody on the bus hears me (they all have headphones in). Cheeks red, I look around then huddle into my phone closer. The menu is mesmerizing to me. I have never heard of such expensive food before, and I work in a restaurant!

_Slow Roasted Prime Rib…33_

_24 ounce Porter House Steak…46_

_Roasted Chicken Breast…20_

Jensen is certainly a man with a lot of dough. I knew that already but looking at Chad’s menu just reiterates it. Feeling nervous still, I put my phone away and get up since this is my stop. The bus wobbles and I almost fall down, then as I take the three steps out, I trip and _do_ fall down. Right onto the pavement. I grunt loudly and reach to feel my phone and keys are still okay. Again, nobody even notices.

But this doesn’t bother me. I’m used to falling down. In fact, half the time I take the bus I end up face down. No, I have a greater problem to deal with--what the hell to I wear to a date like that? Dinner is probably going to cost more than I make in a week!


	3. Awkward Dinner?

There I go again, assuming that it’s a date. This anxiety is going to be the end of me! But finally Monday does arrive and it’s time to meet Jensen at Chad’s.

After about an hour of swapping clothes over and over again, (“This shirt…no, no…maybe this…yes, but not these pants…”) I think I look decent enough. It will be hard to compete with him, since my clothes are mostly clearance stuff from Target with necks that stretch out quickly, while Jensen no doubt wears top designer brands. I try to relax and tell myself that doesn’t matter. After all, he wouldn’t associate with me if it was that much of a problem.

I’ve smoothed my hair down as best as I can, but even in my full-length mirror I come off a bit dumb. Desperate might be a better word. I’m wearing dark slacks and a grey dress shirt. I actually don’t mind it, even though it’s not really “me.” I wonder how Jensen will feel. Hopefully not as fickle as I am.

Tonight I’m taking a cab--no bus for me! I have enough money put aside that I can spring for a little luxury, even though the ride is hardly comfortable with all the butterflies in my stomach. Those sour scenarios are playing in my head again, despite my best efforts to shoot them down.

It’s 6 o’clock on the nose when the cab rolls up. Chad’s has a smooth, black awning with its logo in a fine script. It looks like the lights are dimmed on the inside and the waiters are dressed like penguins. I’m so intimidated by it that my stomach may not let me eat.

Either way, I have to pay the cabby and get out—there’s no way around that. Handing him my cash goes well until I see Jensen round the corner. He’s wearing dress pants with a perfectly pressed seam, a gorgeous maroon shirt that from the looks of it may be silk and topped off with a scarf. A scarf in this weather? Maybe he _is_ gay.

But it doesn’t matter. One look at him and I nearly drop the money for the cabby. He stares at me oddly as I ensure he’s got a hold of it, then I get out and nearly trip on the curb. My legs are trembling. Jensen saddles up to me and smirks. In the fading daylight, I can see a brilliant hue of green sparkling in his eyes. Do I look at them, or rather at his muscular arms? I can’t decide so I just stutter and make a fool out of myself.

“Um, hi—hello—hey—hi!”

Jensen chuckles and replies smoothly, “Hey, Misha. I see you found the place alright.”

He has these creases at the corners of his eyes that crinkle when he smiles, and they are both cute and handsome in degrees that I can’t give proper justice to in the written word.

“Yeah, I did,” I say quickly. “It looks fancy.”

“It is. You’ll love it. I made reservations so let’s take them before they give up.”

“Ohh.”

Reservations? I might break into a cold sweat. Jensen opens the door for me and motions, all the while I keep asking myself if this is a date or not. He’s treating me like a princess. I love it.

The maître d’ is a tall man with slicked back hair and fine wrinkles in his face. He greets us pleasantly and Jensen tells him, “Ackles, for 6.” I am silent.

“I’ve got you right here,” says the maître d’. He gestures to a list at his podium then takes up three menus and walks away. Jensen follows, but not after shooting a smile at me. I don’t know how to react to this but I’m sure I make a stupid face.

We are seated in a half moon shaped booth at the back. The other diners are at least three tables away from us, so it’s nice and quiet. The ambience is mellow and—dare I say it—romantic. Jensen is at home here, but I’m so awkward and nervous that I could benefit from some background noise and tacky lighting.

“Here is the wine menu, sirs,” the maître d’ says, handing us the top menu. Jensen takes it and begins looking it over intently. I don’t even want to know what the prices are like—the only wine I ever get is something marked down at the 7-Eleven (and you know how 7-Elevens that sell booze are). He gives us the proper menus then leaves us alone. Immediately, another waiter rushes in and fills our water glasses then disappears without a word.

“How about we get a bottle?” Jensen suggests, eying the wine menu. I hold my water glass with a shaking hand and shrug. “I’m buying. Don’t worry about that.”

“It’s not just the price,” I say, rather hesitantly.

“Then?”

After taking a careful sip of water, and choke on a small laugh and say, “Okay, maybe it’s just the price.”

“Relax, I can take care of it,” Jensen reassures me. “So what’s your favorite?”

 _The one with the sale label_ , I want to say, but instead I make up a dumb excuse like, “I don’t usually do the ordering.” After the words come out, I wonder if that made it sound too obvious that I think we’re on a date. A straight man would always order for his girl, right? I don’t know.

“Sweet or dry?” Jensen asks.

“Dry.”

“Okay. I’ll pick then, if you don’t mind.”

“Please.”

I peer down at my menu but keep the water glass to my lips. Jensen is still analyzing the wine list. The creases around his eyes make him strikingly, painfully handsome, especially in the dim light of Chad’s.

Our waitress arrives and Jensen orders some wine I wouldn’t recognize, then he leans over to me, our shoulders nearly touching and whispers, “I think you’ll like it.”

“I bet,” is my answer. Feeling his body come close to mine gives a chill down my spine. I wish I could just ask him if he was interested in me. The way he peers over the menu and locks eyes with me tells me yes, but I’ve been bad at interpreting body language in the past. Quite bad.

“I really like the steak,” Jensen says, louder than the last time he spoke. He has the dinner menu in his gorgeous hands. “Any idea of what you want? I’ve tried a couple different things.”

“Er,” I stutter. For some reason I just can’t keep my eyes off of the prices, even though I looked them over online and I’m not paying for it. “Maybe the pan-seared chicken…”

I look up from the menu and see Jensen staring at me. He’s smiling, but I get the feeling that it’s unrelated to _me_.

“Something on your mind?” I ask.

“It’s nothing,” he says.

“Um. You can tell me.”

“Heh, well,” Jensen puts his menu down and folds his hands, chuckling sadly, “My wife always gets the chicken.”

What?

Wife?!

NO!!!

My greatest fear has come alive. It’s true! We aren’t on a date! He’s married! _Why would a married man be going out with a waiter he barely knows?!_

“Y-your wife?”

That’s all I can manage to say. I have a million questions and a million more ways to feel, but all I want is to either scream or vomit.

“Well, ex-wife.”

I pause. Then relax. I’m still confused. I think Jensen can tell.

“I left her six months ago and it’s fresh on my mind still,” he explains. “Sorry.”

“Oh, it’s fine.”

Why did he apologize?

“I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Jensen continues. “Let’s talk about something else. You, for instance.”

“Oh.”

Now I’m flustered and have no idea at all what to think. Jensen looks embarrassed, which only adds to my confusion.

“Do you do anything else other than wait on tables?” he asks.

“Well,” I begin, desperately attempting to gather myself. Our waitress comes back with the bottle Jensen picked out and pours us each a glass. I thank her softly and start over. “Well, I have this silly thing I do on the side.”

“And what’s that?” Jensen asks. He settles into the booth casually with his wine in his palm, fixed on me so perfect and steady that you might think he was in a commercial.

“I make jewelry, but…it’s dumb, I know.’

“Why would you think it’s dumb? Do you think the designers at _Jared_ have a dumb job?”

“No, nothing like that,” I explain. The ruby wine glistens in my untouched glass as I leer at it nervously. Jensen is still presenting a calm and suave side that I like too much. “I’m not making professional grade diamond rings and whatnot—metalworking more than jewelry. I can take small scraps and bend them into things.”

“That sounds cool. Is it profitable?”

“Not so much right now,” I confess, laughing nervously. “I want to sell at a farmer’s market or something, but the rent on a booth is _crazy_. I can’t do it yet. Eh, you probably don’t want to hear me rambling about my poverty.”

“I don’t mind. And this is good,” he motions to the wine. “I won’t force it, but you should give it a taste.”

“Right.”

I nod quickly then take the glass in my hand. Now would be the perfect time for me to drop it, of course, but I hold it steady and sip it. Ooh, you can definitely tell that it’s not from the discount rack. It warms my lips and gives a delicious, mild burn even after I swallow. I think my cheeks just reddened.

“Like?” Jensen asks. He’s pouring himself a second glass already, and the waitress returns to take our orders.

“Oh!”

For some reason this catches me off guard. I scramble for my menu to make sure I know what I want, meanwhile Jensen just sits there, nursing his wine and asks me, “The pan-seared chicken still, right?”

“Um. Right!”

He turns to the waitress and tells her just that, and adds his dish afterwards. I take a second, quicker sip of wine. It’s just as delightful, but now I feel that I’m drinking to tolerate my nerves throughout dinner.

“Well, I’d love to see some of your work,” Jensen says.

“Oh, but it’s really not all that good.”

“You want to sell it though, right?”

“Ye-eah.”

Another sip—thank you, Gods of booze.

“Then it must be halfway decent.”

“I guess so, but you’re someone who could afford the best of the best. Why would you—“

“No, no, c’mon,” Jensen interrupts me. “Don’t think that because I have money I don’t appreciate things that aren’t crazy expensive.”

“Well…”

“You’d be surprised at how much mediocre stuff I own.”

“I _guess_.”

“Trust me on this one,” Jensen says, finishing his second glass of wine. He sighs softly and smiles. “So that’s it? Waiting tables and metalwork?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s pretty neat.”

“Maybe.”

A bit of awkward banter later, our food arrives. As the place is fancy and overpriced, the portions are expectedly small. Either way, it looks and smells good. Jensen dives into his steak with a look unlike fighting an overwhelming boner, while I cut off a piece of chicken and try to remain calm. I’m no stranger to watching Jensen eat, but when I’m this close and I’m not worried about him catching me staring, it’s quite different. His lips aren’t real _wide_ but they’re _round_ and they look so _good_ when he’s eating. I wish I could touch him—I wish I knew if this was a date or not!!

“How is it?” Jensen asks once I tuck in. I smile. It’s amazing.

“Very good,” I tell him as humble as possible. I take another sip of wine. “This place is everything you talked it up to be!”

“Heheh, I’m glad. I love it here…no offense to The Four Lights!”

“None taken. Our food is _okay_.”

“I’d say it’s better than okay. Great for the price. And the atmosphere is perfect.”

I think he may have winked at me, but perhaps it was my wishful thinking. I shift in my seat. The side of mashed potatoes tastes more like mashed butter with potatoes dolloped on top. Jensen appears to feel the same way about his.

“You want dessert?” he asks once the dinner dishes have been cleared away.

“Oh, wow, that’s a lot. What do they have?”

“A couple things…” Jensen closes his eyes as he recalls the sweets. “Cheesecake, chocolate mousse…”

“Oo! Chocolate mousse!”

“Haha, all right.”

The prospect of rich chocolate after the best meal I’ve had in years is tantalizing. The waitress returns and he orders one as well as a cup of coffee.

“You want coffee or tea?” he asks.

“No, I’ll be fine.”

“Okay.”

I stopped at one glass of wine and now I’m back to plain water. I keep the rim to my lips as I watch Jensen take the coffee when our waitress returns. He stirs in a splash of cream then sets the tiny spoon on the saucer. The mousse comes right after.

“Just one?” I asked Jensen.

“I don’t want a whole lot.”

I take a spoonful from the little cup and suddenly my taste buds are swimming in heaven. It’s so rich—so thick—so incredible! I have to stop myself from sliding off my seat!

“Having fun?” Jensen asks with a chuckle. He glides in and takes a spoonful of chocolate for himself. I wish he would eat more so I can watch him put that spoon in his mouth.

“It’s _so_ good,” I say. For some reason I don’t feel like a twenty-seven year old man right now, but rather a little kid out with his idol. I get embarrassed.

“Is something wrong?” Jensen asks.

“No, I’m fine.”

Now I feel like a brat.

“Tell me, Misha, do you like swimming?”

Jensen’s question removes the embarrassment at once and replaces it all with curiosity. He pays the tab with a credit card.

“I suppose so. Why?”

“Have you ever swum at a private pool?”

“No…why?”

“I have one at my house. If you’d like, you can come by someday and swim. It’s amazing when there’s nobody else to bother you.”

I freeze. He invited me to his house. _He invited me to his house?!_

“Wh-where do you live?” I stumble over my own words. The waitress returns the check and he signs. I don’t see how much of a tip he leaves.

“About an hour away if you go out 34.”

“Oh, oh, gosh, um, that’s far for me. I don’t drive or have a car.”

“Ah.”

Jensen scratches his head and bites his lip. “Sorry,” he adds, “Forget I asked.”

Oh, God. Now it’s double awkward. What do I say? Jensen is getting ready to leave.

“I can figure it out!” I say quickly. “There’s gotta be a bus or something, huh?”

“Probably,” says Jensen. He doesn’t make eye contact with me. “If you don’t want to, it’s fine.”

“It might take time for me to figure it out. We, um, we can do something else before then?”

He smiles.

“That sounds nice. Any idea?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Okay. Are you ready?”

“Yeah.”

The tension has lifted. We both seem settled as he leave Chad’s. I call my cab real quick so he can take me home.

“I can give you a lift,” says Jensen.

“Don’t worry about it,” I tell him. He might be hot and all, but I won’t get in a car with him this soon.

“I have a real nice time. Thanks for coming out.”

He speaks to me sincerely as I wait for the cab. I look at him and blush. Now what?

“It was fun,” I mutter. “This place is good.”

“I want to see you again.”

“You will.”

My cab pulls up and I have to go. There’s no touch, no hug and certainly no kiss, but Jensen waves and smiles as I leave. I have some decent hunches now, but unfortunately I’m not closer to figuring out Jensen’s intentions than before dinner!


	4. Rainy Day Moods

“Coffee?”

That one word text is enough to send my heart aflutter all day. I have not seen Jensen in four days since our date(?) and though we spoke on the phone twice, no discussion of plans have come up. The odd thing I noted is how Jensen often comes across as nervous as I am. That perplexes me because there’s no reason for him to be shy—he has money, looks, confidence, everything—then here I am, barely scraping by and dateless is almost a decade. I wouldn’t say I’m ugly, but I don’t have the impeccable movie star looks that Jensen has.

Either way, the text is there where I check my phone during break. It makes me so happy and giddy that Jeannie, the waitress I’m friendly with, happens to take notice. So does Charlotte, another one.

“Everything all right, there?” Jeannie asks. I don’t want to tell them about me and Jensen.

“Yeah, it’s fine.” I’m suppressing all sorts of ecstatic feelings, and even more so once I reply with, “Tomorrow around 2? The Café Liza by my restaurant?” and he says, “Sure.”

“Whatever it is,” Charlotte chimes in, “Don’t get too crazy or you’ll lose your job. I think Mr. Quackenbush is serious about it this time.”

“I know, I know,” I say. Of course that’s a major concern for me—I can’t drop anything else or I’m going to be fired.

“Mmhm, mmhm,” Jeannie hums a couple of times. I fidget with my phone then shove it back into my pocket. She looks me over a few times before heading inside. I can’t wait to see Jensen again. Maybe this time, I’ll be able to figure out his intentions!

My shift continues seemingly forever, but once it’s over I run out of there so fast I might leave a trail of fire. All I have to do is get through the next fourteen hours and then I’ll be getting coffee with Jensen.

The bus is late. Rain from the afternoon has puddled in the curb and when I get on, I step in it (of course). I _almost_ forget my keys on my seat, but the nice person sitting beside me points them out. I wonder how they got there as I stumble off of the bus and head into my building. Home at last! I take a quick shower then slip into bed. Despite my excitement, I’m too tired to think and sleep comes quickly.

I wake up around eight and fix myself a quick breakfast. I keep checking my phone but I don’t know why—perhaps part of me thinks Jensen will cancel. Why? Our first time together went as planned and he’s been keeping in touch. For some reason, I just have to doubt myself constantly.

FINALLY it’s time for me to catch the bus. I’ve spent way too long picking out my clothes again, and now I’ve decided on jeans and a white dress shirt. It’s a nice change from dress slacks and a black polo for work (which I have to put in a bag anyway, since I’m starting my shift after coffee).

After the familiar ride which lands me about a ten minutes’ walk from The Four Lights, I make sure my bag is securely on my shoulder and head off the bus. Instead of going to my restaurant, I cross the street and enter the Café Liza. It’s one of those swanky coffee places with smooth dark furniture and freeform jazz that might be super interesting and innovative if it wasn’t a mass-produced chain.

I take a couple steps inside, breath the scent of freshly ground coffee and look around for my “date.” Up against the _Li’l Liza_ logo painted to the wall stands Jensen. He’s wearing a tight, dark grey v-neck and slim black jeans. His fingers are together as he watches the baristas. I come up to him hesitantly and wave. As soon as he sees me, his focus shifts to me and life comes into his eyes.

“Hey, Misha,” he says. “How are you?”

“Good…you?”

He clicks his cheek and winks. “Not bad. What do you feel like?”

I look at the menu. Café Liza isn’t my usual hangout space—well, nothing really is—so I need a moment to decide. I ultimately pick a medium light roast and Jensen gets a fancy, complicated drink that includes whipped cream. An interesting choice, I think. Once our drinks are ready, we find an empty space at the back and sit down. It’s a small table with cozy chairs. I try not to stare at Jensen too much.

“Did you bring any of your metalwork for me to see?” Jensen asks.

“Shit!” I curse quietly. “I completely forgot!”

“Next time, huh?” Jensen smirks before taking a sip of his drink. A dap of whipped cream sticks to his upper lip and his licks it off with a little grunt. “Love this stuff,” he says. I stare.

“ _Me, too._ ”

“I wish my body loved it as much as I do,” he laughs, “Because I could suck it down by the can.”

“Y-you don’t say,” I mutter. It’s hard to focus. The image of Jensen licking up whipped cream is intoxicating. I wonder if he ever licks it off of people. Oh, gosh—I feel like such a pervert!

“You’re pretty quiet today,” says Jensen.

“Oh, um, well,” my words are coming out like chopped cabbage. Why is this so difficult? “I didn’t sleep very good last night,” I lie, just before taking a big sip of coffee. It needs more sugar. Why did I lie?

“Sorry to hear that.”

“It _happens_.”

“You have a good enough mattress?”

“I would like something better, for sure, but I really,” here, I pause to cough, “Can’t afford that right now.”

“Ooh. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to keep apologizing.”

“Yeah I know, but still…”

Jensen licks a bit of cream off the rim of his paper cup. I force myself to look down at mine. Steam rises and I take a deep breath.

“Any, er, any news on your wife?” I say. Oh, wow. Talk about awkward. I’m bombing today.

“No, of course not.” Jensen looks bitter. “I don’t talk to her. She’s out of my life.”

“I’m sort of curious,” I keep blathering on, “Why did you leave her? If you don’t mind.”

For some reason, I’m perfectly confident asking Jensen things I have no interest in. How _wonderful_.

“Cheated.”

“She?”

“Yeah.”

I take a big, angry sip of my coffee then slam it down. “How could anyone cheat on you?!” I yelp. Maybe that wasn’t the best way to phrase it, but Jensen is amused. He smiles and closes his eyes.

“I’m just a person, and other people cheat on people. It’s part of life, I guess. But the whole thing hurt. We had been married for eight years.”

“Ohh. Ohh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He looks and me and smiles bigger, thumbing the coffee cup. “All wounds heal in time, eh?”

“Here, here,” I say. We both smirk and keep nursing our drinks.

“You have to work today, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Half an hour.”

“Would you like to take a little walk?”

I look over my shoulder and out the window. The sky is light grey.

“But it might rain,” I tell him.

“It might, or it might not. We can stay here, too.”

I nod.

“Now that I think about it, a walk _does_ sound nice.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

Still working on our coffees, Jensen and I leave Café Liza to pursue the little park a couple blocks away. It’s been hot but today is cooler. I like that. Jensen seems to be thinking the same thing.

“The weather today is great,” he says.

“Yep.”

I agree with my eyes fixed on my feet. We head onto the paved path that cuts through the park and stroll around. I’m nervous—being around Jensen does this to me. I feel that I can’t possibly compare to his incredible good looks and beautiful clothes, then throw in my struggle with a platonic or romantic relationship and of course I’m nervous.

As we walk, chatting about this and that, raindrops begin to fall. I stop and look up. Our coffees are done now.

“Oh no!” I say softly.

“Damn.”

“It’s just a little rain,” I tell him. I turn and look right at his pretty eyes.

“Then why ‘oh no’?”

I shrug.

“Why not? A little rain is still rain.”

“Haha, true.”

There’s a silence. Jensen keeps staring at me. His lips part as if to say something, but I speak instead.

“I haven’t seen you at The Four Lights,” I say.

“I’ve been busy, and, well, after the little incident last time…I wouldn’t want to cost you your job.”

“You won’t. I’m doing better.”

“Are you?”

I laugh embarrassedly. “Maybe not,” I admit. Jensen chuckles.

“You know, _Mish_ …”

His voice fades softly. I think he just gave me a nickname. We stand there and stare at each other in silence, Jensen’s eyes narrowing as he might be moving closer to me. That could also be my wishful thinking. I wonder what’s going on his head, but then—

Plat, plat, plat, plat!

The rain picks up out of nowhere! It’s sprinkling at first and we seek immediate shelter beneath a tree, but then it starts to pour. Even through the leaves, rain is coming down in buckets.

“No, no!” I shout, clutching my bag of work clothes to my chest. “Where did this come from?!”

All of the other people at the park start scrambling for shelter, yelling and laughing at the spontaneity of it.

“There’s shelter back by the café!” Jensen shouts. He grabs my arm and we run out of the park, through the pouring rain and back on the block. His fingers around my forearm feel _amazing_. He’s got a great grip—strong and commanding but also sensitive and full of care.

By the time we catch a small awning, well before Café Liza, but at this point it doesn’t matter (we’re in the doorway to an apartment building, just a teeny one that barely fits us both), our clothes are soaked to the bone. I shiver. The cooler weather just got even colder. Spring is a fickle bitch!

“Oh, man,” Jensen sighs. He leans against the threshold and catches his breath. “What a nightmare. Sorry. I had _no_ idea it would rain like that. Maybe I’ll just check the weather next time.”

“It was kind of fun,” I say, and I mean that. The rain is already letting up.

“Okay, good. I was worried there for a minute.”

Jensen smiles, but then he looks over at me and the smile fades. I’m a little embarrassed since I _had_ to pick a thin white shirt today, so I know my skin is showing through. He steps closer.

“You know,” he hums, his voice softer than usual, “You look beautiful.”

I freeze. Did I really hear those words? No way.

“C-come again?” I ask. My body is starting to jitter. Jensen steps just inches away from me.

“You look beautiful,” he says again, louder this time.

“Ohhh…”

Could it be?

Is Jensen seriously interested in me?

This incredibly hot man?

“Mish…”

“Y-yes…?”

Jensen’s narrowed eyes look me up and down. He licks his lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

I nod slowly. My heart is racing. I close my eyes. This is too much. I can feel Jensen’s presence coming closer and closer, but to my surprise, he kisses my cheek. This sends shivers down my spine. His mouth is soft and timid.

“How is that?” he asks in a whisper.

“Good…”

“Can I kiss you more?”

“Yes…”

I tilt my head to the side and he puts tiny, closed mouth kiss after kiss on my cheek, going to my ear and down my neck. My skin is surely wet but he doesn’t seem to mind. He puts his hand on my shoulder and—I can’t believe it—he’s shaking.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

The kisses stop and Jensen looks at me. I open my eyes finally and see that his face is bright red. This is hard to believe, even still.

“Yeah, I just…heh…might sound silly, but I’ve never kissed a guy before.”

“Really?”

“Yeah…”

“Do you like it?”

“You’re _beautiful_ ,” he reiterates.

With a sudden burst of confidence, he holds my shoulders and pulls me in so that we can properly kiss. Our lips meet in a perfect union, closed still, but it’s great. I can’t believe I’m touching and kissing him. It’s everything I imagined it to be.

“Oh wow,” Jensen says, right when the kiss stops. I let go of Jensen and clear my throat.

“What?”

“You’re amazing to kiss.”

“I guess…so…”

“Hm?”

I kick at the ground, pawing at my bag. Jensen watches me with a sweet, shy smile.

“So you’ve never _been_ with a guy?”

“Nope. I always wanted to, though. And damn, did I find the right guy to get comfortable with.”

“Ohh…”

“I really like you, Misha.”

“I like you too, Jensen, even though—“

“Shh.”

He puts a finger over my lips then kisses that finger. I’m flattered. This is amazing! Who would have thought that everything would change so perfectly in one afternoon?

“Don’t worry about my income. I know that’s the problem, right?”

“Yeah…it is…”

“ _Don’t worry_. You’re beautiful and smart, really interesting and cute. I’m just some guy. That’s all.”

“I guess…”

Jensen leans into my ear and whispers, “I want to get more comfortable with you…do you?”

“I _do_.”

He kisses my cheek.

“Let’s explore.”


	5. Chapter 5

I am dead. My life is no longer active. The world around me is not real, and I have entered an alternative dream world--There’s no way the last few minutes actually happened.

I float in and out of a delirious state as I say a quiet goodbye and make my way to work. The rest of the day I’m bottling all of my feelings up for fear that I might drop something. My coworkers take note of this—they can tell when I’m desperately holding back—but nobody asks. I can’t help but wonder if my isolationism has brought about their lack of interest.

But none of that matters. An agonizing bus ride home brings me back to that little apartment and free to fantasize about Jensen. At this point I don’t even have to make believe, I just close my eyes and remember the kiss.

“ _You’re beautiful_.”

I hear Jensen’s words over and over in my head, particularly as I check the bathroom mirror. I poke and prod at my nose and wonder if Jensen meant what he said. I hate the idea of him being a liar or philanderer , but I’m just _not_ convinced.

Once I go to bed, I check my phone for the last time to find that Jensen has texted me. My heart leaps.

“I want to see you again.”

“Me too” I write back quickly. The response comes immediately.

“What’s your schedule like?”

“Off tomorrow. We can meet up then?”

“That sounds awesome. Would you like to get lunch?”

“Sure.”

“You wanna pick a place or leave it up to me again?”

“You if that’s alright.”

“Yeah no problem. I’ll think of something and let you know in the morning. Noon sound good for meeting?”

“Totally.”

“Great. I’m looking forward to it. For now I’m going to sleep.”

Right after this, he sends me a picture of himself—he’s lying in bed with droopy, sleepy eyes and a tired smile on his face. His sheets are smooth and black, but more striking is the bare collar bone I can see. Grunting softly to myself, I figure the polite thing to do is return the favor (even if that isn’t his intention, which honestly would be kind of rude if it was!), so I snap a picture of myself and send it off. Okay, I took about ten until I was moderately happy with how it looked.

“Super cute,” his return text says. “Thanks. Good night, Misha.”

“Night.”

My heart is on fire, or perhaps that’s my crotch. I can’t tell and I don’t care. I am now in possession of a totally adorable picture from the man I randomly started dating; the most attractive person I’ve ever seen, that guy from my restaurant who I always thought was completely unobtainable!

Through the work of some crazy miracle, I manage to sleep well all night. I get woken up by the promised text that reads, “Fiddle and Whistle. You like Irish food?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had it?”

“Then we gotta go.”

“Ha ha okay. I’ll see you there are noon.”

“Awesome. Later.”

Today is a day of confidence. My shy self has moved to the backburner and I’m pumped full of energy. This restaurant that Jensen picked ends up being close enough to home that I can walk there. Right on time, we both arrive.

“Hey!” Jensen calls outs, giving a little wave. I’m half expecting a kiss greeting but I don’t get one.

“How’s stuff?” I ask.

“Great. You want to eat? I bet you’ll love this place.”

I smile.

“It’s worth a shot, I’d say.”

The Fiddle and Whistle has a rustic feel. The walls and floors are dark wood and the booths are padded with green. Irish clutter is all over the place—soccer teams, beer brands, other things I don’t quite recognize. The servers appear to be Irish but I don’t think anybody eating there is. We take a booth in the back and Jensen orders a dark beer right away.

“You want to drink anything?” he asks me.

“It’s a bit early for alcohol,” I say. He shrugs. “I think I’ll just have a soda.”

The menu is small but rather intimidating. I don’t recognize most of the items. Today will involve taking a chance.

“I like the Colcannon,” says Jensen.

“Oh…hmm…”

“You okay? You seem quite today.”

“I do?”

So much for being confident. I guess that was all in my head.

“It seems like it,” says Jensen. The waiter brings our drinks and he takes a big sip of beer. “It’s cute, though.”

I smile and turn my eyes back to the menu. Well, corned beef and cabbage isn’t weird. I’m not sure how I feel about bangers and mash.

“You know,” Jensen begins, his voice sounding lightly amused, “I was super nervous about kissing you.”

“You were?”

“Ye-eah. It was all a chance, you know? I had a good impression that you were gay, but I was still taking a big risk.”

“Is it so obvious?”

Jensen nods slowly as if I might get mad. I don’t mind.

“I’d wanted to kiss you since the first day I went to The Four Lights.”

“ _Really?_ ” I ask, completely astonished. I take a sip of Coke to try and cool my face down. Jensen chuckles.

“Yep,” he says. “There I was, down on my luck from the recent divorce and now questioning my sexuality, when boom—this total hottie shows up and blows my mind.”

“No!” I say, smiling.

“Yes!”

“I had no idea.”

“Really? I noticed you were checking me out as much as I had been.”

“You _knew?_ ”

“’Course I did. I’m surprised you never saw me ogling you back.”

“Ohhh…”

A big smirk and Jensen drinks his beer some more. “Never been so happy to have soup spilled on me.”

“I swear it wasn’t on purpose.”

“Oh, I know.”

Our banter continues like that throughout the meal. My corned beef and cabbage proves to be _quite_ satisfying, and I tried a taste of Jensen’s which also tasted great. While our lunch is coming to a close, I think it’s time to show Jensen the work I remembered to bring.

“Here,” I say, taking my hand from my pocket and dropping a couple things onto the counter. Jensen looks very curiously at them. “Rings I made.”

“Oh wow,” he says, fingering one of them. “This is cool. It’s really good.”

“I guess,” I mutter, blushing. “I want it to be good. I’ve worked so, so hard at it.”

“No, it is. It’s incredibly good. You could sell these.”

“I’d like to someday.”

“You definitely could.”

The check comes and distracts him from the rings for a moment, but once he leaves his credit card, he goes right back to looking them over. I can tell that he’s impressed by the way his mouth is stuck open.

“They’re unique looking, too,” he adds.

“Do you think so?”

“I wouldn’t lie about that. If they weren’t so great, I’d tell you to maybe focus on a different career. But no—these are awesome.”

“Heh…thank you.”

He signs for the meal and then gets up. “Ready?”

“Yeah.”

As we’re leaving, I’m not sure what to say. I don’t want my day with him to end so early.

“Ice cream?” he suggests.

I chuckle. “That sounds nice, actually.”

“There’s a marble slab place right around here. Have you ever had that kind?”

“ _Marble slab?_ ” I ask.

“Yeah.”

He starts walking and I follow. His hand looks so grab-able but I dare not make that kind of move, not yet.

“You’re still talking about ice cream, right?”

He laughs loudly, right from the gut. That’s a great noise. He has a wonderful laugh.

“Yes, I’m still talking about ice cream. I’ll show you.”

Around the block there is a place tucked in between a burrito joint and a women’s clothes store. There’s a neon sign that says MARBLE SLAB ICE CREAM beneath the company logo. This is new to me.

Apparently, it works just like a regular ice cream place but after they scoop it, they mix it around on a cold slab of marble and stir in all the toppings you want. It’s different, but I’ll give it a shot.

“Medium rocky road with gummy bears and marshmallows,” Jensen orders.

“Gummy bears in chocolate?” I ask.

“Yeah, you gotta try it. The way the gummy bears get hard but still soft—it’s—it’s weird but good. Hard to describe.”

“Er. Okay. Maybe. I’m not sure about that.”

The assortment is slightly overwhelming but nothing I can’t handle. In the end, I start with red velvet ice cream and stir in sprinkles and chocolate cookie crumbles. I can already feel my teeth rotting!

Once the ice cream is paid for, we go back outside and walk around slowly. Jensen got a cone so I figured I would, too.

“How is it?” he asks me.

“Great! Thanks for taking me. I live right around here but I never even realized it existed!”

“Hahah, excellent.”

“Oh, here. Let’s sit.”

A point out a little space off to the side where there’s a fountain, some potted plants and a couple of benches. I take a seat and Jensen goes right next to me, leaving maybe two inches between us. I know he will want to go slow, so I make sure to keep any distances that he sets.

“Let me try one of those gummy bears,” I say.

Jensen nods and put his cone in front of me. “There are some right on top.”

“Mnnhh…eehh…”

I try to get into his ice cream without making a mess or putting my tongue all over it. I manage to get one of the gummy bears, but I also get chocolate all over my lips and nose. Jensen laughs.

“You made a mess!”

“It happens,” I say casually. “In fact, I’m most surprised that I haven’t spilled any food today.”

“Aww…here…may I?”

Timidly, Jensen leans over and wets his lips. He gets in front of me and leans in. I’m slow on the uptake.

“Um, what are you going to do?”

Blushing with maybe a hint of embarrassment, Jensen retracts and says, “I was just gonna…clean it off you…”

“Oh!”

Now _I_ feel like an idiot.

“Y-yeah, that’s fine! I’m sorry, I just didn’t realize..”’

Jensen musters up some courage and goes in again. He closes his eyes and kisses the tip of my nose. I relax. His mouth feels incredible against my skin.

“Is this okay?” he asks in a throaty whisper.

“Yeah,” I answer, almost as quietly.

He licks over my nose then moves to my lips, kissing and licking ever so gently. This is sweet and also amazingly erotic. We’re out in public and he’s eating food off of me.

“That’s it,” it says, moving away and looking at me again. “All done. How was that?”’

I’m hard. And in a daze. I wonder if he is, too.

“Good.”

“Maybe if I hang around you more, I might catch your clumsiness.”

Playfully, Jensen takes his ice cream and dabs it against my lips again. It’s cold in contrast and I let out a teeny peep.

“That okay?” he asks.

“Y-yeah,” I say.

He goes in and kisses me again. This time, his free hand touched my shoulder and he properly kiss. I can taste the chocolate in his mouth. I want more.

“This isn’t too fast, is it?” I ask, breaking off the kiss.

“Don’t think so. We’re just kissing.”

“In public. And putting ice cream in the middle.”

Jensen smirks.

“I’m guessing you’ve never done much foodplay?”

“None,” I say.

“I mean, that was super mild, but how did you feel about it?”

I blush bright red all of the sudden and divert my eyes from his.

“Bad?” he asks, rubbing his thumb on my shoulder.

“No, it was…” I clear my throat. “It was _really_ , surprisingly erotic.”

“Yeah?”

I nod and say nothing. He kisses my cheek then kisses back to my ear where he whispers, “Is it too fast if I invite you over?”

“Right now?”

“Whenever.”

I bite my lower lip.

“W-well, not _right now_. But um, maybe…soon. Definitely. I want to.”

It took me by surprise that he would go that far so quickly. Of course I want to be at his place and I want to have sex—okay, not just have sex, but I truly want to spend more time with him, however it’s been a while for me!

“Okay then,” Jensen says. He kisses my cheek then goes back to sitting proper and keeps eating his dessert. “Whenever you want, just give me the word.”

“Deal.”


	6. Chapter 6

I give myself some time with this to try and keep the hype down. Over the next couple of days, I do nothing but pop valium and get through work, constantly thinking about the best time to see Jensen. He keeps in touch with a text or a call here and there, which makes me feel special but also contemplate his feelings. Maybe it’s just the pessimist in me, but I keep thinking he’ll use me for sex and then be gone. I guess at the end of the day that might not even be the worst, since at least I’d get banged by a major hottie.

Finally my schedule opens up favorably—I’m off at 3pm and the next day I don’t go in at all. I don’t want to assume that coming over to Jensen’s implies spending the night, but I want to be free in case it does. I give him a call in the morning.

“Hey, Mish.”

I love the nickname he’s given to me.

“Hello. I’ve got the evening off today, so I was thinking it might be the perfect time to come over.”

“Awesome. I like your thinking. Do you want me to drive you?”

“All the way out there?”

“Yeah, I can. If you want.”

“I want gonna catch a cab.”

“That’ll cost a fortune. You’re my guest and you shouldn’t pay to come here.”

“I know, but, I’d hate to inconvenience you.”

Jensen laughs.

“Inconvenience?” he asks. “I’d be happy to drive you.”

“Well, okay, if you’re sure.”

“Of course I am.” There is truly a lot of warmth in his voice that I can hear with every word. I keep asking myself how I got so lucky. “Bring what you need if you plan on staying _late_.”

We decide that he’ll come pick me up right after my shift, so after a painfully long workday, I get changed quickly in the bathroom then come out onto the sidewalk and look around for him. I follow the sound of a car horn over to a hardtop Jeep wrangler. It’s new but not brand new. The window is rolled down and Jensen waves. I grin and run to the car, not before ramming into a pedestrian who stares at me like I have three heads.

“Hi!” I say, getting inside the passenger’s seat. My necessaire is clutched in my hands.

“Hey, how are you?”

“Good.”

“Work?”

I make a small noise and shrug. “Work is work, I guess.” Jensen laughs and begins driving away.

As we leave the city and head into the suburbs, Jensen and I chat about this and that quietly. He doesn’t make any contact with me, and despite my body’s scream for affection, my brain tells me this is nice. He’s being respectful. There’s no hiding the way we feel about each other now, but for Jensen to keep to himself makes me think he’s respecting me and my space—or he’s just too shy, but history has shown that isn’t _exactly_ the case.

His house is what I would call past the suburbs, actually. It’s at the point where all signs of the city fade. No more clustered houses, no more heavy traffic. The usual scattered trees turn into farmland, although there are still great thickets of forest. This land is hilly with massive Colonial mansions every now and then, hiding behind acres and acres of farm. I feel like Scarlett O’Hara.

“Here I am, just up here.”

We take a little road that is a one-lane bridge over a creek, then it cuts through a forest and up a curvy hill. He turns onto the longest residential driveway I’ve ever been on, and then there’s a break in the trees and I see his house. Funny, I imagined something bigger (not to say that it isn’t, since it’s plenty large) but it’s beautiful nonetheless. He parks in a spotless garage two-car garage that the Jeep shares with a BMW m5 and invites me out.

“What do you want to see first; the grounds or the inside?”

“Hmm, the grounds.”

“Okay, come over here.”

It’s a curious house because it’s smackdab in the middle of that dense forest. There are no other signs of life as far as I can look through the trees.

“It must be peaceful out here,” I note.

“That’s why I bought it. Here, come here.”

Around the back of the house there is a beautiful deck with a pool that sparkles like a basin of sapphires. Potted flowers and palms, at least twenty, are arranged across the desk. There is some outdoor furniture and a retractable awning (even though there are trees, they aren’t the tallest, and there are a couple acres of grass surrounding the house, so it’s sure to get sunny).

“It’s beautiful,” I say quietly. I also notice a hot tub, a great big propane grill and a vegetable garden off to the side.

“Thanks,” Jensen says with a smile. He puts his hand on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “Would you like to see the inside, now?

“Yeah.”

We go in through the garage, which takes us into a small mudroom. That leads to a hallway the goes straight back to the kitchen. He points out a closed door to the side as the master bedroom, (“It’s on the ground floor?” I ask. “Yeah, why not?”) but proceeds further on.

The kitchen is open and attached to the living room. Here you can see the second story, which overlooks these rooms, giving the kitchen a tall, tall ceiling. I’m gawking at the granite counter tops and the sheer beauty of everything he owns, but Jensen is very humble and doesn’t spend much time pointing out the clearly expensive appliances.

Leather sofas and a giant flat screen TV make up the living room. There’ s a general theme of autumn colors in this area.

“Upstairs,” Jensen says softly, taking my hand. I slip my fingers into his grip and follow with my heart aflutter.

An entryway that passes a bathroom cuts around to the proper front door, diving in the shape of a T to a sitting area and a dining room. We don’t spend much time in those at all, just enough for me to see how gorgeous the furniture is. Then we take the stairs up, where he shows me an office, a reading room, a small home gym and a guest room.

“If you’re more comfortable,” says Jensen, “You can sleep in here.”

“Why would I stay over and sleep in this other room?”

“ _Just in case_ you don’t feel right in my bed.”

I bite my lower lip. “That’s a little silly.”

“I want you to know your options.”

He puts a kiss on my forehead then goes back downstairs. “You want dinner?”

“Um, sure?”

“I can make something if you’d like.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, sure.”

I follow him down to the kitchen and begin a proper investigation of the hardware. His pots and pans are hi-grade, from a very expensive line that a celebrity chef makes. The silverware is gorgeous and heavy. I can’t fathom being able to afford such things.

“Do you like fish?”

“Uh huh.”

Jensen is moving around the kitchen so smoothly that I can’t stop watching. He takes a large salmon filet from the fridge and preps it quickly before tossing it into a hot skillet. While it cooks, he throws together a salad.

“Can I help?” I ask weakly, knowing the answer already. I just want to be polite.

“Nah, I’m good. Thanks, though.” He looks up from the stovetop and winks. “And thanks for coming out. I appreciate it.”

“Sure.”

“Do you want a drink?”

“All right. What do you have?”

He chuckles. “Everything. But maybe, hm, today is special so we should have something great.”

The fire is turned off beneath the salmon, which is smelling absolutely incredible, and he goes down into the basement.

“What’s down there?” I ask, standing at the top of the stairs.

“A lot. Come.”

I go down and to my surprise, there really _is_ a lot; one whole room with soft carpet and pretty pastel green walls. There’s a billiard table, another TV with a huge, cushy sofa, and a full bar. Neon signs and vintage alcohol tins are all over the walls. There’s a fridge back there that Jensen is bent over and looking in. I go back there and see a ton of alcohol stocked up.

“Wow,” is all I can say.

“Well, it took me a long time to get this much. Ah! Here.”

Jensen takes out what I think is a wine bottle, but he hands it off to me and I see that it’s some kind of champagne with a label all in French.

“And that’s not just sparkling white wine.”

Again, “ _Wow_ ” is all I can say. He grabs two champagne flutes from the bar and we go back upstairs.

After plating our food, we head into the dining room. I take a seat and Jensen pops the champagne. “Here you go,” he says, grinning ear to ear as he fills up my glass.

“Th-thank you,” I say. It’s hard to believe this is really happening.

Jensen takes a seat and raises his glass slightly. “No, thank _you_.”

We have a tiny toast and I take a tiny sip. The champagne sparkles all the way down and I think I had a full-body wiggle. Jensen drinks it like it’s no big deal.

“Dig in.”

Dinner is incredible. Who would have thought that he’s also a talented cook? The fish is perfect and even the salad has an air of finesse that makes it impeccable. I don’t even want this man to leave my life.

“Good, I guess?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I say with a very enthusiastic nod. “Everything is amazing. Thank you so much.”

“Stop thanking me. You deserve it.”

“Mm.”

I clean my plate at the same time as I finish my champagne. Jensen offers me a second glass but I decline, so he corks it and stows it in the upstairs fridge.

“I don’t want to sound like a dick or anything,” he says, “But do you want to see the master bedroom now?”

I take a deep breath. My heart is pumping fast. Are we getting to the action now?

“I do.”

The bedroom is everything I expected, yet also not at all. The walls are blood red and the carpet is black, with a burgundy rub in the center. Against the wall is a giant bed with tall posters and a gorgeous red canopy. The sheets are also black.

“Oh, my,” I say quietly.

“What?”

“This is beautiful. It’s like a fairytale bed or something.”

“Haha, maybe.”

Jensen shrugs it off and picks up a little remote. It turns on a ton of electric candles that are scattered all through the room.

“Is this how you sleep every night?” I ask.

“Yeah. Why?”

He goes off into the bathroom but I give him space.

“It’s really…”

“Sexy?” He finishes for me. I clear my throat.

“That’s one word for it,” I say.

“I think it’s more pretty than sexy. I like red and black. I like candles. There’s a sound system, too.”

“Oh, my,” I say again.

“Make yourself at home.”

I take a couple careful steps within and sit down on the bed. The comforter on top is very soft and I give it a couple squeezes.

“Do you need to get washed up?” Jensen asks.

“That sounds like a good idea.”

He comes out of the bathroom and hands me a towel (red, of course). “Shower or bath. I have both.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“I’m going to clean up the kitchen.”

“Um. Okay, then.”

I wanted him to join me in the bathroom, but I know he needs to take his time with this. He’s probably more nervous than I am. So I go in and take a shower by myself.

The bathroom is all red and white, like the Queen of Hearts. There’s a Jacuzzi tub _and_ a shower. A million kinds of scrubs and soaps are in the shower caddy but they’re organized well. The water pressure is great and I enjoy myself more than I should.

When I’m done, I wrap up in that towel and wash my face in one of the double sinks. There’s a painting of an angel on the wall that watches me from the mirror.

“Hey, Misha?”

“Yes?”

“You can borrow one of my robes if you’d like.”

“Oh! Okay.”

“Here, I’ll just…I’ll just drop it in.”

The door barely opens and his hand puts a black thing on the inside doorknob.

“Thank you,” I say.

After I finish washing up, I dry off and step into the robe. I instantly feel the caress of smooth silk all over my body and I nearly swoon. I touch it a little, but not too long, because Jensen is waiting on the other side.

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, also in a robe. When I come out of the bathroom, he stares at me with his mouth open.

“ _Wow_ ,” he says, to quote me from earlier.

“Is it okay?”

“You look _amazing_.”

I step over to the bed and sit next to him, expecting him to touch me, but instead he keeps his space.

“Is there a problem?” I ask.

“No, not at all. I just…wow… _wow_!”

I put my hand on his thigh. I want to kiss him.

“I don’t want you to think I’m just using you for sex or anything like that,” Jensen says quietly.

“I know. It’s fine.”

“We’ve only been on a few dates and we’re already here. It’s not a red flag, is it?”

I shake my head.

“Why would it be?”

“Well, we _are_ moving fast.”

“I don’t think so.”

Jensen smiles a bit.

“Alright, then.”

I lean in and kiss him on the lips. I can feel him trembling beneath my touch and that makes me feel bad.

“Are you sure this is okay?” I ask quietly.

“Yeah,” Jensen says. He swallows stiffly and stares into my eyes. The light from those candles glitters in them.

“Am I moving too fast?”

“No. You’re just—you’re—you’re _so beautiful_ , Misha.”

“Aah,” I say, unsure of how to respond.

“Beautiful in a masculine way, but not so much that it demeans me.”

“Is that good?”

“Yeah. It’s real good. I just want to, well, I just…”

“Hmm?”

Jensen takes his trembling hand and puts it on my shoulder. He delicately runs a finger into the collar of the robe and tugs it away just enough to show my collar bone. Jensen stares at me hungrily then goes in a kisses my flesh.

“Ohh,” I sigh.

He suddenly wraps me up in his arms and kisses at my neck over and over again, sucking and licking at time.

“Oh, gosh!” I gasp, closing my eyes.

It just feels natural to fall back, and somehow in our growing passion, I manage to back up so that my head can go into the pillows. I think the sheets are silk, too.

Jensen straddles me and I feel our hardons, barely hidden by the thin robes, touching each other. I buck my hips up against him and he groans loudly. His face moves from my neck and to my lips, where we kiss hotly. He opens the front of my robe and thumbs over my nipples.

“Aah, J-Jensen!” I shout between kisses.

“You okay?”

He sits up and looks down at me, face full red. His robe is also opening and I can see his chest with a cute patch of sparse hair in the center.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just good, that’s all. How are you holding up?”

“Not bad.” He glances at my crotch, then back to my eyes. “You have a pretty big dick.”

“I guess. Do you want to see it? Touch it? Or no?”

“Um…well…I guess…argh, I don’t know.”

“Are we moving too fast now?”

“ _Maybe_. I mean, I’ve never had another guy look at my cock. I’ve definitely never touched another one.”

“If you’re uncomfortable, we can stop.”

I notice a tiny damp spot on his robe right at the peak of his erection. Oh, God, how I want to move that robe away.

“Maybe this is too fast,” Jensen says tightly. “I’m sorry. Were you expecting to get laid tonight?”

“I wasn’t expecting anything, it’s fine. This is your first time, after all.”

With an exhausted sigh, Jensen gets off of me and pulls back the covers. He seems disappointed in himself. “It’s weird to be so sexually experienced but also totally inexperienced at the same time,” he says.”

“I’m not mad,” I reassure him. “I get it.”

“I know, but still.”

I join him beneath the covers and try cheering him up with smiles. He looks at me and grins.

“You really are hot, you know that?” he says.

“Ha. I guess. Thanks.”

“Do you like to snuggle?”

“I do.”

“Spoon?”

“Yeah.”

“Come here, then.”

I back into his arms and feel his body against my back. He’s still super hard. Mine is fading. He put his arms around my waist and nuzzles into my neck.

“You smell good,” he whispers.

“Thank you…”

“You feel good.”

“Thanks.”

Another nuzzle.

“You’re adorable.”

“Thanks…”

His hands wander down to my hips. I close my eyes and tip my head back. There’s no way we can keep this up.

“I guess,” Jensen whispers, “You can take this robe off if you want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah…”

“Take it off of me,” I say.

Jensen puts his hands to my shoulders and slowly peels the fabric off. It’s not the easiest thing to do beneath the covers, but he manages and now I’m naked. He fumbles with something and I return to his arms, surprised to feel he’s naked behind me, too. I gasp. His body feels _incredibly_ good against mine.

“You’re so warm,” Jensen purrs, smoothing his hands over my chest and hips. He runs his fingertips down to my crotch finally and, with minimal hesitation, touches my cock.

“Ohh,” I moan.

“Mm…I like it…”

It doesn’t take long for him to get comfortable. He wraps his fist around my dick and squeezes lightly.

“Aah, now you’re just teasing,” I cry.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

He lets off of my dick and hugs me again. It’s hard to believe that we’ll manage to sleep like that, without getting off but being completely teased, but Jensen’s breath slowly turns heavy and I feel him fall asleep. I follow shortly thereafter.


	7. Chapter 7

How can one morning with a person who, to be perfectly honest, I barely know, feel so comfortable? When I wake up, it seems that I’ve been waking to those arms around me for the last several years. In a surprising way, it’s home.

Jensen is still asleep when I stir. His face is right in the nape of my neck while soft breaths and his neatly trimmed goatee tickle my flesh there. I can feel a semi pressing against my ass. We’re snuggled together like a perfect pair of spoons.

I don’t know what time it is, but judging by the flicks of sunlight coming through the curtains and the bed’s canopy it think it’s around seven or eight. I try to get up but Jensen stirs and applies pressure around my waist.

“Nope,” he mutters.

“But I have to pee.”

“Nope.”

“Hey.”

He teases and I try to pull away again, giving him my back, which he starts kissing at. Slow, firm kisses along my pronounced shoulder blade.

“Just let me pee and I’ll come back,” I say. He finally gives in and I get out bed.

“ _Wow_ ,” he remarks, watching me walk to the bathroom. I ignore his comment and do my business, but when I come back and my full front is exposed to him, I have to acknowledge the face he’s making. His eyes and mouth are wide open and he clutches the covers in both fists. As I come back to bed and sit on my knees, he hesitates to touch.

“What?” I ask, being humble on purpose.

“You are so, _so_ sexy.”

“Touch me.”

Jensen reaches out and lays his hand on my thigh. His thumb brushes through my fine leg hair. “So sexy,” he mutters again.

“You touched me last night no problem.”

“There’s a little more pressure when I’m watching and being watched.”

“You’re fine. But, could I see _you_ now?”

Jensen laughs softly as he tosses the sheets aside. His naked body is exposed to me and instantly I can’t take my eyes away—nicely trimmed pubic hair surrounds what I correctly assumed to be a big dick. He’s muscular and well-built, but a touch of a tummy makes him even more appealing.

“Are you hungry?” he asks.

“For what?”

We both laugh.

“Breakfast.”

“Yes, but not ravenously. Why?”

Jensen sits up and puts an arm around me. “Sit in my lap,” he says.

“Okay.”

He props against the headboard and I straddle him, our foreheads and dicks now touching. Jensen takes a deep breath and smooths both of his hands down my back and to my ass, rocking his body to mine as he does so. I think he’s just getting a proper feel for all of my angles.

“There’s a place I wanna take you,” he says, closing his eyes and tipping his head back. I can’t possibly resist the temptation, so I move in and kiss his neck. He lets out a gasp. I feel his cock twitch.

“Oh, yeah?” I hum between long sucks.

“Aah…yeah…”

We grind against each other slowly. The shared touch is incredible.

“ _Fuck me_ ,” I moan.

He sucks in a hot breath and asks, “Right now? Like this?”

“We’re so close. I need you…please.”

I grab onto his shoulders and curve my body so that my ass makes solid contact with his cock. Like that, I can grind harder, huffing stiff breaths as my nervous system tingles. I touch our noses together and stare at him.

“ _Please_.”

“Wait, Mish. Wait, wait.”

A noise of resistance chirps in my throat.

“I’m just not ready,” says Jensen. “ _Just not yet_.”

“You want me, though, right?”

“God, yes.”

“Okay. It’s fine.”

I smile and kiss his nose. I have to admit that it’s incredibly frustrating to be _this close_ and still not get him, but I keep reminding myself that this is another kind of virginity for him. It’s not just fucking some hot guy, like it is for me.

“I want to make sure it’s right,” says Jensen.

“I understand. So do you want to go get breakfast somewhere?”

“Yeah! You’ll like it. Can you wait for me to get dressed and do a little bit of business?”

“Of course.”

“All right. I’m going to take a shower.”

I slide off of him and let him get up. Proudly naked, he leaves the bed and saunters into the bathroom. I consider joining him, but I still want to give him space. I meet my horniness halfway and at least wash up while he showers.

“You can make coffee if you want,” he says while he’s in the stall. “I have a Keurig brewer.”

“Ah, okay, then.”

“There’s a carousel with k cups, but more are the cabinet above it.”

“Sure.” I rinse my mouth and watch him lathering up behind the glass. His body is _amazing_. “Do you want anything?”

“Well, since you asked, can you brew me a cup of the midnight dark? There’s a purple lightning bolt on the k cup.”

“Okay.”

“Thanks, babe.”

A flutter of happiness resonates within me as I then get dressed and wander into the kitchen. I’ve never used a Keurig brewer before, but I make coffee at The Four Lights all the time, so how hard could it be?

A little cup of midnight dark is staring right at me. That was easy. I think I’ll try a morning tea blend. The machine seems pretty self-explanatory, too. After I turn it on, it tells me where to put the water and then the cup. After doing everything, I put a mug on the drip catcher and let it brew. The water boils and the machine chirps before hot coffee bubbles out. It’s great except for one thing—I put too much water in!

“Aah! No, no, NO!” I cry desperately as the cup runs over. Jensen comes out of the bedroom wearing clean clothes and a look of worry.

“What’s wrong?!” he asked.

“Too much water!”

He laughs. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“Damn…”

“It’s fine, really. Here.”

He briefly shows me how to tell the water measurement in relation to the size selected. It’s much easier than I thought and now I feel like an idiot.

“I’ll be in the office making a couple of phone calls,” he says, ascending the stairs. “It won’t take long. You can come up if you want, but you need to be quiet.”

“Okay, just a second.”

While my tea is brewing, I pour Jensen’s coffee into a new mug and wipe up the mess I made (luckily, the drip catcher grabbed most of it, but even that needs to be cleaned now). Once everything is ready, I go through the house to join Jensen upstairs. As I round the stairs and start to go up, my keen sense of balance is thrown off for no particular reason and the hot drinks go straight to the floor. I bang my knee on the bottom step and, to my great disappointment, watch helplessly as Jensen’s coffee not only spills but shatters the mug it’s in.

“SHIT!” I shout reflexively. I cover my mouth afterwards when I remember that Jensen needs me to be quiet. Surprisingly, he runs out with a phone to his ear.

“Are you okay?!” he gasps, going down the stairs quickly.

“I’m fine, but the coffee—the mug—the floor!”

“It’s cool, relax. Sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah…”

He squats down and rubs my arm gently.

“The mug…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jensen says. He turns to the phone and keeps talking to someone. I want to clean up the mess but he stops me. “I’ll get it.”

“Argh.”

I feel humiliated. He goes back to the office and I know I can’t just ignore the mess, so I get paper towels and sop it up the best I can. At least only one mug broke. I pick up those pieces and carry it all back. While standing at the sink, I give a big sigh, then go up to the office.

“Great, that’s awesome. I’ll make a note of it.”

Jensen is talking away while sitting at his desk, thumbing through his tablet computer that I’ve seen a million times at my restaurant. I step inside quietly and walk around. There are a couple bookshelves in there, mostly with empty spaces where photographs and knick-knacks stand. It looks like family photos. I think the majority have him as a little boy. There are a couple that are turned face down but before I can sneak a peek, Jensen hangs up and turns around.

“Sorry about that,” he says. “Are you okay?”

“You don’t have to keep asking. I’m fine. Thanks. I should apologize for the mess.”

“Don’t worry.” He gets up and kisses my cheek. “I’ll clean up and we can go have breakfast.”

“Okay…”

My voice fades and Jensen leaves. He gives some noises of surprise when he sees that I’ve cleaned up.

“Mish, I told you not to.”

“I couldn’t just _leave_ it. The floors—“

“Are fine and they can handle some coffee for a few minutes. But I appreciate the effort. C’mon. Get your shoes on.”

We take the Jeep again, and this time he continues down the main road in the opposite direction of the city. The drive ends up passing all of the trees until we’re driving through acres and acres of flat farmland. The sun is coming up and flooding the world with warmth. Jensen has soft country music playing on the radio and he puts on a pair of nice sunglasses. I decide to lean over and kiss his cheek.

“Mm,” he hums, licking his lips. “I like that.”

“Yeah?”

I kiss him again.

“Oh, yeah.”

Another kiss.

“Here we are.”

He turns down a little dirt road and pulls in front of a small building. There are a couple of cars parked out front and a neon OPEN sign buzzes in the window. A sign reads “Ed’s Joint” over the front door.

“It looks shitty but the food is amazing,” Jensen explains.

“I think it looks quaint.”

“Even better.”

The inside is exactly what I imagined—a rundown looking place with a linoleum counter, vintage signs stuck all over the walls and a sassy middle aged woman taking orders. She waves at Jensen and calls on him by name.

“Who’s this?” she asks, pointing at me.

“This is Misha,” says Jensen. “My boyfriend.”

_Boyfriend?_

My face must be like a tomato. I can’t believe he thinks that and also openly admits it! I have never been so flattered.

“Oh!” the server says, looking a bit thrown off. “Well—I guess—it’s good that you’re moving on!”

“Yep.”

Jensen moves with solid confidence as he takes me to a booth by the window. We sit down and the woman comes with water and menus.

“You want coffee?” he asks me. I still feel crappy about the earlier incident.

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“Okay.” He turns to the server. “Just one cup.”

She nods and goes to the kitchen, where a lot of fryer noise can be heard. Jensen is staring at me with big eyes.

“Hm?” I ask.

“Boyfriend is a good title for you,” he says. I giggle.

“Agreed. What’s good here?”

“Everything. I really like the waffles. And their bacon is amazing.”

“Eesh. You aren’t kidding about the calories.”

Jensen taps my menu with his. “Don’t worry about it,” he says. “We’ll go back to healthy eating later. One breakfast won’t throw you off.”

“Oh, that’s true, you know.”

Jensen orders a waffle and I get a stack of pancakes and eggs. The food is without a doubt fantastic. I’m incredibly impressed.

“Thanks for taking me here,” I say after he’s paid the bill and we’re on our way.

“Sure thing.”

“Now what?”

“Well, it looks like business is going smoothly so I’m flexible.”

“Hmm…what is the business, anyway?”

We go back to the Jeep and get inside. Jensen sets the keys in the ignition but doesn’t turn it on yet.

“A landscaping company,” he says.

“Really? Do you manage it or—“

“I own it. Got 26 trucks, too.”

“Oh wow!”

“It’s not too bad,” he continues with a smirk. “My wife—ex-wife, sorry—used to do all the secretarial work, but now it’s just me. Sometimes I get really, really busy. It’s actually unusual for me to spend so much time at home.”

“ _Really_?”

“Yeah. But it’s going well and I like giving my time to you.”

“I hope I’m not making anything difficult.”

“Of course not. Come here.”

He motions to himself and I lean in for a kiss. Our lips smack together a few times and he licks at me once.

“Ooh…”

“I like you an awful lot, Mish.”

“I like you, too.” We kiss again. “Let’s spend the rest of the day together.”


	8. Chapter 8

Jensen suggests we go for a drive and I have to agree that it’s a lovely idea. The sun is coming up over the many fields and there is hardly any traffic. I ate too much at Ed’s Joint but it’s a good kind of full. I keep my hand on Jensen’s arm as we drive. Is it possible to grow this close so quickly?

“Have you ever been out this far?” Jensen asks.

“Nope.”

“You like it?”

“I do. A lot.” I watch as a pasture of cows rolls on by. “It’s inspiring.”

“For what, making jewelry?”

“Yeah. Is that silly?”

“Not at all. What ideas do you have?”

“Hmm, many. I’m excited to get started on them. I’m thinking maybe I’ll work on earrings for a while.”

“Oh, neat. I’m not stopping you from being creative, am I?”

I gasp softly. “No, no! I didn’t mean that.”

“Okay,” Jensen nods, “But if you want to go home so you can work, I’ll take you.”

“I wanna stay.”

My words sound like a spoiled brat, and since I pull his arms closer to me as I say them, I feel selfish. I fall silent after that but Jensen does, too.

“Up here is a farmer’s market that I’d like to check out if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all. That sounds fun.”

“Are you a big fruit and veg person?”

“I am! It’s just expensive. I mostly get my greens from Trader Joe’s, but even that I have to be careful with.”

“Well, you get as much as you want to day. I’ve got you covered.”

I clear my throat. “Thank you,” I say quietly. “But I can pay for _some_ things.”

“No way. You aren’t buying a damn thing as long as I’m around you.”

“O-okay. Thanks.” I chuckled softly to myself. “Maybe you should hang around when I pay my rent?” I tease. Jensen looks serious.

“Maybe I should,” he says. I gasp loudly.

“Oh, no!” I protest. “Don’t!”

Jensen just laughs and points out the place up ahead. There’s a huge flat board with tomatoes and corn hand-painted on it, along with the words FARMER’S MARKET. Several tents are set up and a surprising amount of people are bustling around, checking the produce out. Jensen pulls off and stops behind the line of parked cars.

“Here we are.”

I get out and follow him to the main stands. The sun is shining brightly and somehow to air feels better out here. Jensen takes my hand and my fingers slide between him with joy. I love how we’re out in public and showing our freshly-made affection, though I can’t help but notice hardly anybody pays attention to it. We’re having much better luck than I did in high school.

“So what do you like?”

“Hm?”

I must have spaced out. Jensen has taken me to a stand of melons where he leans down to smell a cantaloupe.

“Fruit-wise,” he says.

“Anything. Everything! I guess it’s not really apple season.”

Jensen shrugs. “Not really,” he says. “Check these guys out.”

He lets go of my hand and takes picks up one of the cantaloupes. He offers it to me and I knock then sniff it. The skin is hard and smells delightful.

“Ooh!” I coo. “I bet this is great!”

“The fruit here is boss. Can you get one of those baskets?”

“Sure.”

“Okay. I’m getting one and do you want your own?”

“Um…”

“Will you eat it or would you rather just share with me?”

“I could take one home.”

“Heheh, cool. Okay. Here. Tomatoes. You like them?”

“Love them.”

We go through each booth and soon we’ve filled two baskets full of fruit and vegetables. I can’t imagine that we’ll manage to eat it all before it goes bad! I like that Jensen is health conscious. He asks me if I am, and I explain how I try to be as healthy as possible.

“It shows,” he says. “Even your skin is pretty and full of life.”

“Eh…”

While Jensen goes to buy everything (I don’t even want to know how much it costs), I see a sign by the strawberry stand that advertises picking your own. I apparently stare at it for a while because Jensen notices.

“You want to do it?” he asks.

“Huh?”

“Pick your own strawberries.”

“Well, um, I’ve never—I’ve never picked my own fruit before.”

“We can if you want. It’s fun.”

“Isn’t it a little childish?”

“What! Not at all!” Jensen laughs. “And besides, if something is fun, it’s fun.”

“Oh, okay, then. Yeah, let’s do it.”

He pays for all the fruit then we go to the strawberry fields. They give us a bunch of little green containers and say that it’s done by weight, naturally. The fields are big and I see tons of people out there, rummaging through the leafy bushes in search of red fruits. I follow Jensen a little ways out until he squats down.

“It’s like second nature for you,” I remark as I watch him pluck strawberries like it’s his job. I sit beside him and shield my eyes from the sun.

“Well I grew up on a farm in Texas.”

“ _Really?_ ”

“Yeah. Mostly ranching but I learned everything.”

“I had no idea!”

I try to help pick berries but I think I just slow him down. A couple crows fly overhead, cawing to each other and casting quick shadows over us. Jensen looks up at me and grins, his eyes creasing up adorably.

“You’d like cute in a sunhat,” he says. I blush.

“I would?”

“I think so.”

“I could really use one,” I chuckle.

“Sorry. I could have brought something if I knew we’d be doing this.”

“It’s okay. Not your fault.”

I squeeze Jensen’s arm and he leans against me. The pails of strawberries sit on the ground and he puts his arms around me.

“Oh!” I gasp. He starts kissing at my neck. “J-Jensen!”

“You smell _so good_ ,” he moans, burrowing into the nape. I yelp. This came out of nowhere and I just remembered how badly I want him to fuck me.

“Yaa!” I cry. “Not here!”

He smacks his lips against mine a few times and grins. “Then let’s go home.”

“Yeah.”

“I think this is enough,” Jensen notes, gesturing to the strawberries. “I know something we can do with them.”

“Something sexy?”

He laughs.

“No. Well, maybe. I mean food wise. I’ll show you.”

* * *

 

“So after I chop them into halves, I put them in this bowl, right?”

“Uh huh.”

It’s midday and we’re back at Jensen’s beautiful house. After we put all of the produce away, he washed the strawberries and is now cutting them on the kitchen island. I stand close by with a smile and watch. This is like watching an interactive cooking show.

“Now I’m going to take some of this sugar and sprinkle it over them.”

“Ooh!”

“A little more sugar won’t hurt you, baby doll.”

Jensen gives me a quick kiss on the nose and I roll my shoulders. Baby doll. I like that. It doesn’t make any sense considering I’m a grown, fit man, but I still like it.

“Then I put the lid on, and they’ll sit in the fridge for a little bit. But don’t worry, I have plans for them. You’ve never done this before?”

“Nope.”

“You’ll be impressed, I bet. So why we wait, do you wanna take a swim?”

“Oh, right! I keep forgetting about your pool. But I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”

Jensen laughs. He goes over to back door and steps out on the patio, leaving me a little confused. I follow apprehensively.

“Doesn’t matter,” he says, now undressing on the deck. My eyes widen. He strips down like it’s nothing and before I know it, he’s totally naked. “Swimming naked it great. Come. Literally nobody can see us.”

“Well,” I saw softly, “Maybe.”

Jensen cannonballs into the pool and water splashes everywhere. His body is virile and delicious looking, with water running all over in tempting little rivulets. I stand on the edge of the pool like a nervous teen girl watching a celebrity, completely forgetting that we’ve been nude together already.

“C’mon, Mish!”

“Ah! Right!”

I snap out of it and take off my clothes. Jensen gazes at me while I do then. Pools can be dangerous for me, so instead of leaping right in, I carefully go around to the side and take the steps in. The water is cold but the sun is hot and the contrast is lovely. It grabs around my dick and I shudder as I feel the skin shrinking up.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jensen says as if he’s reading my mind. He swims up to me and touches my legs. “You’ll adjust.”

“Oka-ay, hold on, hold on. I don’t want to trip or anything.”

“Heheh.”

I take a deep breath and plunge up to my shoulders. It’s a bit of a shock, but once it’s over with, it feels very good. Jensen puts his arms around me.

“How’s it feel?”

“Lovely.”

“A lot different than wearing a swimsuit, huh?”

“A whole lot. I’m surprised!”

“Mmhm!”

We go back and forth between swimming and kissing for a while. It’s in general a great experience and I don’t want it to end, but Jensen says it’s time to check the strawberries so we get out.

“You know,” he tells me, handing me a pool towel, “I haven’t used that pool in almost a month.”

“No kidding?”

I towel off my hair and he watches me intently. When he says nothing, I add, “Why’s that?”

“Your hair looks _amazing_ messy like that,” he says slowly. I giggle.

“Okay, then.”

I guess I won’t get an answer right away. He stares a little longer then we head in, just wearing towels around our waists. Jensen goes to the fridge and takes the strawberries out.

“See, the sugar makes a little syrup around them and they get real nice.”

“Interesting!”

“But I’ll make them better. See, here…I have a loaf of pound cake I picked up. Nice and dense. Beautiful. We’re going to take a slice and put strawberries on them.”

“Like a shortcake.”

“Exactly.”

“Awesome.”

He does just as he says, making two portions, but after the strawberries he uses a can of whipped cream to top it off.

“Not too much!” I say as he sprays it on mine.

“Fair enough, fair enough.”

I take a spoon and go to the dining room but Jensen stops me. “Let’s eat in the bedroom,” he suggest.

“Oh. Okay.”

I’m intrigued as I follow Jensen to the master bedroom. He pulls the canopy to the side and sits down on the luxurious bed, but not before dropping his towel on the floor. He eats his dessert in the nude. I join him, also nude. He smiles naughtily.

“It’d be a shame if you spilled some,” he says.

“Hmm?”

“You know, considering how clumsy you are and whatnot.”

I look at him and he winks at me.

“ _Ooh_ ,” I say, getting the hint. I take a little spoonful of the cream and purposefully dab it onto my chin. “ _OOPS_.”

“Haha, silly clumsy baby. Let me get that.”

Naturally, Jensen leans over and licks it off of me. I close my eyes and take a slow, deep breath. I love feeling his tongue on my flesh and I think he agrees. All of the sudden, he pushes me back onto the bed and straddles me.

“Oh!” I yelp. “Watch your bowl!”

“ _Fuck it_ ,” Jensen growls. He dumps out the remainder of dessert onto my chest. “You make a better plate, anyway.”

He starts licking and nipping the food off of me, all the while I’m gasping and crying out in pleasure. My toes curl. My heart races. Jensen is moving with a sloppy, hot passion and it’s driving me crazy. He must have been suppressing the hell out of these feelings.

“Oh, God,” Jensen moans between long, long licks over my sternum. He uses his palms to smoosh the cake around. He’s really making a mess.

“You’re really making a mess!” I say.

“I don’t fucking care.”

Oddly enough, he comes up to my level and kisses me now. The cream and everything gets squished between our bodies, and some that was on his face is getting on mine. His kisses are messy and sloppy, just like the sweets between us. He makes deep, feral grunts as he ravishes me.

“I need to fuck you,” he groans. “Let me fuck you.”

“Then do it,” I sigh. “I want you.”

“Let’s make a big mess. Show me your asshole.”

Jensen sits up and I spread my legs, rocking back enough to show off my hole. Jensen watches it curiously. Cream is all over his chest. This is sexy but also not how I imagined our first time.

“May I touch it?”

“Yeah.”

He lightly fingers my hole and I close my eyes. I want all of him all at once, now, but he takes his time touching my skin.

“It’s so cute,” he remarks.

“I guess so. Do you have lube?”

“Yes.”

“Get it and prep me. Have you had anal before?”

“Yes.”

Jensen retrieves a bottle from his nightstand and slicks up his fingers. He gently prods one into my hole and I take a calm breath.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

“Oh, Jensen…it’s so good…”

“Mmm.”

He rubs his finger deeply and brings a second one in. My ring of muscles stretches tightly around him, pulling greatly and sending bolts of pleasure throughout me. I bite my lower lip. Jensen leans over and licks a bit more of the cream from my body.

“Cock,” I coo.

“You want it?”

“Please.”

“Okay.”

He slathers more lubricant onto his big member and gets onto his knees. I slide my legs onto his shoulders and try to keep enough room for him.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

“Mmm, yes…”

“I’m going to fuck you now.”

“Please.”

As he pushes his cock inside me, our eyes are locked. They twinkle in the sunlight that bleeds through his curtains, accompanied by a naughty smile that drives me wild. His cock is big and beautiful and just _everything_ I want.

“Oh—my—God,” Jensen gasps. He has to close his eyes while I take him deeper. His breaths are short and quick with pauses in between. He begins to tremble. “You—are—so—tight—Mish!”

“Gaah, aah!”

I moan wickedly as he starts to move his hips. He has incredible control over his body. I’ve never felt anything like this before. I hold onto his biceps and pull him down to my level.

“This is amazing, Mish,” he whispers, touching our noses. We kiss.

“You’re—hng—big,” I grunt.

He takes a hand and runs it through my hair, kissing me more. His thrusts get quicker but they’re still impossibly firm and deliciously steady. I think I can feel the muscles backing each movement.

“Shit—I’m cumming!” Jensen cries. His breath chokes and he hugs me tight. It’s not a dramatic orgasm, but passionate nonetheless. “S-sorry!”

I hug him tight, gasping. Jensen’s cock pulsates within my hole. Oh, I wish I could cum right now, too! He’s trying hard to keep humping me.

“Oh, Mish, Mish!”

His moans gets quiet and I hear and feel his hot, crazy breath right against my ear. I plunge one of my hands down between us, grabbing my own cock desperately. I pull and pull, jerking myself off with vigor, trying so hard to get off. Jensen nuzzles against me and kisses my cheek over and over.

“ _I’m falling so hard for you_ ,” he whispers.

I buckle and cum.

“AAH! B-BABY!”

“Mmm,” Jensen moans deeply and kisses me hotly as I shoot ribbons of cum between us. “Ohh, _Mish_.”

As my climax settles, I gasp and gasp, trying to catch my breath. Jensen’s body feels terribly heavy on top of me. We kiss weakly.

“Do you mean that?” I ask once everything is relaxed. He’s staring my in the eyes.

“What?”

“Falling for me…”

Jensen pets the top of my head. The cream, both whipped and our own, is starting to feel uncomfortable.

“Yeah,” he says. We kiss again. “Now how about a shower and a snuggle?”


	9. Chapter 9

 

“So gay sex is good for you, then?”

I pose the question while we’re standing in the shower. Jensen is behind me and soaping my back slowly. He kisses my neck and over and over, purring in the depths of his throat.

“Yeah. Real good.”

“I’m glad.”

“You’re so _tight_.” He runs his lathered up fingers between my cheeks and licks my neck. I close my eyes. “You’re so _built_.”

“Thanks,” I hum in response. I really love the way he touches me and I simply can’t get enough.

“And you’re so damned beautiful.”

“Aah. Thanks.”

“I can’t believe how clean your ass is.”

I chuckle.

“Well,” I try to explain, “It’s a combination of things. But yes, that’s important to me.”

“It’s awesome.” Now Jensen puts his lips right against my ear as he rubs my ass with both hands. “Do you like it being licked?”

I slowly exhale. “Yes,” I admit. “I do.”

“Good.”

Jensen kneels down, as expected, and separates my cheeks. I put my palms against the wet tiles and arch my back to give him a better angle.

“So hot.”

He whispers this and a few other words before plunging his mouth against me. At first, he gives long, slow, wet licks over my hole. I tremble from the feeling. His tongue is incredibly talented, even in the first moments of performing.

“Mmn, you like that?” he asks between licks. I say nothing but nod, starting to pant. Jensen surely smirks against my hole as he keeps playing with me, now dipping the tip of his muscle inside me. On the brink of being overwhelmed, I press my forehead to the tiles and groan loudly.

“Can you cum from this?”

“S-Sometimes.”

“That’d be hot.”

He grows hungrier and hungrier as he digs into me. I do my best to steady my breath, but I’m panting and choking on my gasps so hard that I can barely breathe. With my forehead and arm steadying myself against the tile wall, I slide my free hand to my crotch and fumble with my package. The feeling of Jensen eating me out is overwhelming but I still manage to jerk off.

“Aah…it’s good—oh!”

I bite down on my lower lip hard and close my eyes as a surge of warmth floods through my body. Jensen licks particularly tediously and I cum. Surely it’s a hefty load, but by the time I recover and open my eyes again, the shower has rinsed it away. Jensen stands again and wraps his arms around me.

“How was that?” he whispers.

Red faced and panting still, I relax into his chest and sigh, “For someone who was scared of touching another man, you’ve certainly become familiar quickly.”

“Hey, I’m confident with my sexual abilities,” Jensen says. “This was just new at first.”

“Well I’m very happy with your comfort level now.”

We kiss.

“Me, too,” he says.

After the shower, we dry off and wrap up in those bathrobes before moving to the living room. Some TV is watched while we snuggle.

“So I guess I’ll be taking you home tonight?”

“I _guess_.”

I stare at the television but Jensen tries to catch my eye.

“Don’t you have to work tomorrow?” he asks.

“I do. At noon. But I wanna stay.”

I take his hand and give it a squeeze.

“Then stay,” he says, returning the pressure. “Stay as long as you’d like. I can drive you to work.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, of course I am.”

Jensen leans against me and presses his lips to my shoulder for a moment. I smile and touch our heads together.

“I know it’s early on,” I begin to confess, my voice softer now, “But I just want to stay here and stay here.”

“I want you here, too.”

“Mm.”

“Hungry?”

“Yeah.”

“How about a nice salad? We’ll eat better from now on.”

I nod. “That sounds nice.”

Jensen turns off the TV and we go over to the kitchen. He takes a bunch of vegetables and sets them on the island counter. After getting a large bowl and a chopping knife, he begins prepping lettuce as he asks, “Do you ever put weird things inside you?”

“Weird like what?”

I’m leaning over the counter, propped up on my elbows with my chin in my hands. I think I’m wiggling my ass side to side without realizing it. Jensen dumps the lettuce into the bowl and picks up a cucumber. He gestures to it and says nothing. I blush.

“Um, no, not exactly,” I tell him quietly.

He rubs the vegetable a little longer then cuts it up, all the while I watch and wet my lips. Now I’m curious.

“I have a dildo but that’s all,” I mutter.

“That’s kind of hot.”

After mixing up an oil and vinegar dressing, he tosses the salad and we eat out on the deck. The sun is going down and streaming through the forest that surrounds us. I keep my robe pulled taught over myself but Jensen doesn’t care nearly as much.

“You’re a bit of an exhibitionist, aren’t you?” I ask.

“Sometimes. Never when I could really get in trouble, though.”

“Like what?”

“Well, I like to sit out here naked from time to time, but I know that I won’t be seen.”

I laugh softly to myself. “Then what’s enjoyable about it?”

“It’s nice to be outside in the nude,” Jensen says with a mild shrug. “It’s natural, comfortable, things like that. It doesn’t have to be sexual. I do it alone.”

“Hm.”

I put my fork down for a moment and take my robe off. Jensen doesn’t notice at first but once he does, he stares. Naked, I relax onto the chair again and keep eating.

“So?” Jensen asks.

“I just feel naked,” I admit. “If there’s a kick to it, maybe it comes later?”

Jensen laughs. “I don’t know,” he says, “It was always fun for me.”

After we finish dinner, I help him clean up and then we chat for a while until bedtime. I’ve been getting more ideas for jewelry so I’m a little eager to get back home.

Finally it’s off to bed. I wash up and climb through that gorgeous bed canopy to settle down for the night. Jensen comes a bit later. We’re both naked as we snuggle beneath the covers.

“Do you wanna go again?” I ask.

“Maybe not right now,” says Jensen. He puts a few lazy kisses on my neck.

“How often do you ideally like to have sex?”

“Hmm…whenever possible.”

He jokes and we both chuckle.

“But seriously,” he continues, “Normal for me is two or three times a day. Before the chaos went down, my ex-wife and I would typically get it on in the morning, sometimes if we were both home midday or at some point in the evening, and often before bed. Ooh, every now and then I’d wake up in the middle of the night and do it. That’s always nice.”

“I’ve never done that.”

“Might be my favorite kind. She would initiate it, too. Not to sound like an asshole or anything, but I’m a big fan of waking up to a blowjob.”

I laugh again and lean back into his arms more. “Note taken,” I say.

“Just stating the facts here.”

We kiss a few times and mutter on small, various topics until sleep overtakes us. I have a dreamless night and wake up after Jensen does. We’re still hugging but he strokes my arm up and down over and over. Pulling from my sleepy haze, I look back to him and smile weakly.

“Good morning, Misha.”

“Morning.”

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah. You?”

“All right, I’d say.”

He goes into the nape of my neck and kisses me there. I think that’s his favorite spot to do it.

“Ooh,” I gasp, wiggling from his touch. I back my ass up into his crotch and slowly grind against his growing hardon.

“Lots of energy,” he mumbles.

Feeling inspired, I reach back to grab his waist and press our bodies even closer together, then whisper, “I want you to fuck me _hard_.”

“I can do that,” he giggles. “How do you want it?”

“Like this.”

Taking a different direction now, I release myself from his grasp and instead stand on my hands and knees, bowing my back to stick my ass straight into the air. Jensen tugs off the covers, slightly cold at first, but when he gets behind me and runs lubricant between my cheeks I heat up fast.

“Oof,” I grunt, getting comfortable in the pillows. Jensen teases my hole. I’m not sure how he managed to get lube that quickly—perhaps he keeps some under his pillow? I don’t know.

“How’s that?” Jensen asks. He digs a finger into my ass and I coo.

“Ooh, it’s good…keep…keep at it.”

With a naughty chuckle, Jensen fingers me deeply. He adds a second one and stretches me apart. I roll my head in the pillows and instinctively rock my hips into his touch. I like how he puts his free hand on my ass to steady my movement. His touch is utterly comforting.

“Ready for the main course?” he teases.

“Please.”

His fingers leave and I hold my breath until I feel the smooth cockhead touch my hole. One hand must be guiding himself inside, but the other keeps a hold on me. I do my best to relax so he can get deep. Once his cock pushes through my ring, it slides in smoothly.

“Oh!” I yelp. The initial stretch stings but then it feels _so_ good.

“Ah, how’s that?”

Both of Jensen’s hands grasp my hips and he pulls them into a slow, melting thrust. I might be drooling.

“A-amazing.”

“You wanted to be fucked _hard_ , right?”

“Mmm.”

“How’s _this?_ ”

Digging his fingers into my sides, Jensen absolutely slams my ass. I can feel his hard abs beneath that little pad of tummy, his trimmed pubic hair tickling my cheeks and he balls slapping together with mine. I’ve already hit a pleasure-center of euphoria. I’m close to blacking out.

“H-hard enough?” Jensen asks, gasping and grunting all the while. His noises are becoming more and more animalistic and raw.

“ _More_ ,” I huff.

“O-okay, h-how’s _this?_ ”

He makes a big shift now. I think he’s moved his legs so that he’s actually standing on his feet, one on each side of me. As he stands over my ass he can jackhammer down into me. My elbows dig into the mattress as I shout desperately.

“HAAAH! GAAH! AAH!”

“You—like—that—Mish?!”

“Ooh! Ooh God! God!”

We scream together as we heat up to dangerous levels. I can feel beads of sweat running down my thighs. Jensen’s ball strike—strike—strike against my skin. His breathing is short and quick.

“Ooh J-Jensen!!”

He hits my perfect spot and my nervous system floods with excitement. The feeling is entirely overwhelming as I uncontrollably cum. No hands, no touching, just a rush of endorphins and I cream the sheets. My tensing must send Jensen over the edge, too, since he slows down, grabs my shoulders as if riding a horse and yelps in a nearly painful sounding tone.

“MI-ISH!”

We collapse together.

The sweetest part of sex is the afterglow and this one is fantastic. Covered in sweat, hearts racing, we face together and hold hands. I don’t want to offend him with my morning breath so I try to keep my mouth shut and away from him, but his constant kissing of my nose and forehead makes that difficult.

“Hard enough?” he whispers.

“Yes. Amazing.”

“Morning sex is just great.”

“Agreed.”

I squeeze his fingers, currently laced with mine. Now that the air has settled, his bedroom has become a quiet, beautiful place to enjoy each other’s company. We are silent for a while as we do just this.

“You’re an amazing man, Misha.”

“I _guess_.”

“I really enjoy spending time with you.”

I look up into Jensen’s eyes smile. “I do, too.”

We can only snuggle for so long—Jensen has to check in with his company, we need to eat and I have to get to work soon. He assembles a fruit, Greek yogurt and granola parfait bowl for us as we eat as he does his office work. It looks like the weather will be nice and mild today.

“All right, baby doll, gotta get you to work.”

“Yeah.”

After breakfast, we quickly get dressed and shuffle off into his Jeep. I’m unhappy about this. Sure, there are things I want and need to do at my own place, but I don’t want to leave Jensen’s arms. Saying goodbye near The Four Lights is particularly painful.

“Come over again sometime,” Jensen says, kissing my cheek several times. “Anytime you want.”

“Okay, I’ll take you up on that offer.”

We kiss properly and I cling to him momentarily before leaving. I absolutely can’t be late, and I _will_ see Jensen again.

 


	10. Chapter 10

That evening, I am productive, but at what cost?

I stay up until around 2am getting work done—earrings—but my heart yearns for Jensen. Yes, my heart. I know that it’s still terribly early on in our relationship, but already I have a painful longing for him. Being in my crappy studio apartment reinforces the loneliness. It’s not the size or that I don’t have any money; I can sleep in a bed that doesn’t have silk sheets or a canopy, and I can comfortably boil water in a pan on the stove instead of a state-of-the-art Keurig brewer. I want Jensen. I want him holding my and kissing me, giving those small comforts that I’ve quickly come to desire. Even hugging my pillow gives little comfort, since I want _his_ arms around _me_. It’s the wrong idea, but it brings me to wonder if the pain is any easier for Jensen? Of course, my neurotic runarounds of doubt start rolling again as I ask myself if Jensen is as lonely as I am. He seems to be genuinely interested, but what do I know? After all, my experience is very little.

I toss and turn in bed for several hours. I’ve had a cheap beer and a Valium, one of the last before I run out (and I don’t have a refill) but that doesn’t help. It’s well after 4am when I finally fall asleep, and no wonder I wake up with a head cold coming on.

“No, no, no,” I grumble as I force myself out of bed. I have to be at work by eleven and that gives me less than an hour to get ready and down there. There’s heavy sinus pressure and some tickling in my throat, but I’m out of cold medicine so I’ll just have to take it easy at work at hope for the best.

Of course my day doesn’t work out well for me. We’re terribly busy at The Four Lights. I’m all my feet all day, desperately trying to work through my growing headache and pressure. I really don’t want my boss to know that I’m sick since I’m still on thin ice for goofing up so much.

By the time my shift is finally over, I feel like I could faint. The ride home is an equal nightmare and my cold is growing so bad that I struggle to get up into my apartment. But I am home and I get into bed. Laying there with my head pounding, nose running, throat aching, I hear a buzz from my phone and find a bit of happiness in a text from Jensen.

“Hows it going?” he asks.

“I woke up with a head cold. Feel terrible.”

“Aww. Get some rest. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you.”

I don’t think much of it and drop the phone to the floor, then close my eyes and snooze for a while. I get up around 6 and try to eat, but I’m not especially hungry and my throat is too raw to get anything down, so I crawl back to bed and sleep all night in my work clothes. Not fun.

I’m worse in the morning, too sick to work so I have to call out. The only part of me that feels better is my throat, thank God, but my head is spinning and my nose is all stuffed up. My legs ache and I might even have a fever. After making the call, I hide back in bed and groan in pain. Where did this come from? Maybe Jensen gave it to me.

“Are you feeling okay?” I text him. He writes back immediately.

“Yeah why? How are you?”

“Real bad.”

“Do you need anything?”

I sigh.

“Everything,” is my honest reply.

“Do you have any medicine?”

“No.”

“I’ll bring you some.”

“I don’t want you getting sick.”

I don’t, but I also don’t want him inside my apartment. There’s no way he could like me after seeing how I live.

“I don’t care. I’ll take care of you.”

“No, don’t. It’s a bad cold. I have a fever.”

“Mish, you NEED medicine. I don’t know your address so I can’t force myself, but please let me help you.”

I take a moment to think about my reply. I am in a lot of pain and I do need medicine, plus I would love to see him, but my apartment…

“My place is real small,” I write back.

“I don’t care.”

“I haven’t cleaned up.”

“You’re sick, how could you?”

“Well okay.”

I give him my address and go back to a miserable, achy sleep, but not before crawling out of bed and unlocking the door. I tell him to invite himself in.

Two hours later, give or a take some, I’m not keeping track, I startle out of my sleep because the front door opens.

“Misha?”

“Hey…”

“Oh, you sound bad.”

My eyes are closed and the covers are over my head. I hear Jensen come into my place and set grocery bags, I assume, on the counter. He locks the door and comes to my bedside (it’s a studio so it’s all one room and my bed is just out there, in case you don’t know how that works).

“Mish…”

Jensen’s hand rests on my head and fingers through my hair. I feel his weight sit down next to me.

“Don’t get too close,” I groan.

“You’re hot,” he says, touching my forehead. He makes a noise of concern. “What else hurts?”

“Sinus, nose, legs are achy.”

“Baby you have a fever. Are you hungry?”

“No.”

“Good. Feed a cold, starve a fever, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Jensen gets up and goes back to the kitchen. I hear him unloading things but my head is spinning too much to even worry about it. The strongest emotion I can feel right now is shame about my apartment, though I say nothing. I half expect him to break up with me once I’m well.

“Here, babe. Sit up for a second.”

“Eh…”

“I have medicine.”

I force myself to get up and sit against the wall. Now I can finally see Jensen. He looks immaculate, as usual, which has got to be a glaring contrast to my ill face. He sits beside me and hands over a cup of orange liquid.

“Take it, please,” he says, stroking the side of my face.

I take the medicine in a swift gulp. It tastes terrible but the menthol already strikes through my sinuses.

“Here,” Jensen offers me a glass of water and a box of tissues.

“Ohh…”

He smiles. I drink a little water and take the tissues from him. He hugs me.

“Don’t get too close,” I warn.

“I don’t care.”

I relax into the hug. I missed his scent. I missed this.

“I’m so sorry you’re sick,” Jensen sighs, rubbing my back. “Were you scheduled to work today?”

“Yeah, I called out.”

“Ahh, sorry.”

“It’s okay. You know, um, well…”

I relax into his embrace and even put my arms around him now. He squeezes me tighter. “Yeah?” he asks.

“I’m embarrassed about my place,” I admit.

“Why?”

“It’s small and shitty. So different than yours. It might be hard to tolerate.”

“What? Why would you think that?”

He lets go of me now and looks me in the eyes, taking both his hands to my cheeks. My head is heavy and hard to keep up.

“Because you’re so used to this big beautiful house, and having money and space and nice things.”

“Misha, I don’t care.”

“About what?”

“Any of it. I only had the big house for my ex-wife. Yeah, I’m used to it now and that’s just how I live, but, well, to be perfectly honest, I’m thinking about selling the house.”

“You’re _moving?_ ”

“Staying local.”

“Oh, oh, good.”

Jensen chuckles softly. “I wouldn’t leave you like that. I’m just getting tired of that house. I lived with _her_ there. It’s time to move on. I want to downsize and maybe get a farm again.”

“That could be nice.”

“Yeah, I thought so.”

“Hey,” I say, changing the subject, “Look over on that table. You can see my latest work.”

He gets up and checks out what I’ve been doing recently. He’s impressed.

“I like this a lot,” he says, “All of it.”

We keep talking and then I sleep some more, he has to take care of a couple things and heads out but promises to return in the evening. I keep myself busy with reading and music but mostly sleeping. The medicine helps but I need another dose soon. My legs are cramping up again. A little after 7, Jensen returns.

“You’re up?”

“Uh huh. I’m hurting.”

“Aww. Okay, well let’s take some of the nighttime medicine. Here.”

He pours a cup of dark green goo this time. It’s harder to swallow than the orange one, but I get it down and follow up with a lot of water.

“You’ll be sleeping like a drunk baby with this,” he says.

“Well that’s good. I guess. Heh.”

“Not to impose, but would it be okay if I stay over?”

“That’s fine. Not much room, though.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

I’m awake for only a little after that, since the medicine kicks in quickly and I go out like a light. I don’t know what Jensen does all night, but I think he sleeps next to me. By the time I’m awake in the morning, thankfully it’s a day off for me anyway, he’s up and hurrying around the kitchen. Something smells good. Something _feels_ good. My head is way lighter and the congestion isn’t as bad! My body doesn’t ache. Now it’s just a little stuffy and tired feeling.

“Morning,” I mumble. Jensen looks over the kitchen counter and smiles at me.

“Hey there, baby doll. It looks like you’re feeling better.”

“I am. A lot!”

My stomach groans and twists at the scent from the kitchen. I watch Jensen stir something on the stove.

“Hungry?” he asks.

“Oh, God, so much. What are you making?”

He puts something into a bowl and comes to the bedside. “Chicken soup,” he says. “Careful, it’s hot. Try a spoonful.”

I’m slightly put-off by this at first, but he offers me a taste and I let him feed me. I know I’m a grown man and so is he, but I can’t help enjoying the coddling.

“Good?”

“It’s so good,” I say with a smile.

“This is my mom’s recipe.”

“I love it.”

“Here, more.”

He keeps feeding me. This is some weird, unnatural scene, but it’s also comfortable and amazing. When I’m almost done with the soup, I have a minor breakdown. I start crying. Jensen puts the bowl aside and holds my arm.

“What’s wrong?”

“I—I—ah, it’s st-stupid…”

“What is it?”

Jensen uses a tissue to pat my eyes dry but the tears keep falling. I must look terrible right now.

“I haven’t been treated like this since I was little. _Really_ little.”

“Is that bad?” Jensen asks. “Is it creepy?”

“N-no, I like it…I…I really do. It’s special.”

“Oh, honey.”

I throw my arms around him and sob against his chest. What’s going on? Jensen is a dominant guy who fucks me raw, why would I take so much enjoyment in him treating me like a baby?

He pets my head and kisses the top of it, shushing me softly. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he whispers. “Daddy’s here, he’s got you.”

“Aah…”

Now it’s definitely wrong. We have a creepy relationship, don’t we? But I don’t care. Even if it’s creepy or wrong, it feels right. I love it and I think Jensen does, too.

“Too much?” he asks.

“G-getting there,” I mutter into his chest, “But I like it.”

“Well you are my special little boy.”

“Mm.”

“’Daddy’ used to be a legit term for boyfriend a couple decades ago.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“But I don’t want to be your daddy.”

“Then don’t be,” Jensen says, stroking my back slowly. “Just be my boyfriend.”

“Okay, deal.”

I look up at him and smile.

“Glad you’re feeling better,” he says. “I have some orange juice in there for you. Drink plenty of it and you’ll be back on your feet in no time.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “Thank you.”

He kisses my forehead. “It’s just what I do.”


	11. Chapter 11

I spend the rest of the day alone. Jensen has business to get to, and since I’m still not feeling perfect, I’d rather have the place to myself. It’s not a happy thing to send him home, but at least the nighttime medicine knocks me out so that I can’t realize how lonely it is.

The next day I’m supposed to work, but I’m still too out of it to show up. Maybe if I my job was at an office it would be okay, but serving food to people is something you can’t be snorting and coughing heavily with.

Jensen stops by around noon. He sends me a text first, so I manage to take a shower and primp up more than I have since I got sick. I tidy the apartment, too.

“Someone’s feeling better.”

He comes in while I’m making my bed. I turn around to face him with a smile, but it grows unexpectedly huge when I see a bunch of roses in his right hand.

“Oh! Is—what—“

“For you.”

As he holds them out to me, I carefully take the bunch and look down at them. They’re soft pink. A dozen.

“But what are they for?” I ask.

“Just a get well present. These, too.”

I failed to notice his other hand hiding behind his back and he brings it forward, clutching a box of incredibly fancy looking chocolate. My eyes widen and jaw drops.

“When you’re feeling better,” he adds. “Maybe right now isn’t the best time to indulge.”

“Oh…but…”

I can’t find the words. He’s been so nice, almost too nice. Jensen puts the chocolates on the counter and goes to hug me, but I push him back against the wall by the door and pin him.

“Hoh!” he shouts from surprise. “Careful—Mish—don’t—“

I immediately go down to my knees, drop the flowers and instead fumble around his zipper, quickly and desperately taking out his cock.

“You don’t have to reciprocate,” Jensen says, seemingly unable to make an intelligent move. “You’re still sick and you shouldn’t—I don’t think—you might—ohh, _oohh!”_

_  
_

I take his growing dick into my mouth and suck it generously. I’ve missed this so much. The scent of his flesh and sweat is thick and all-consuming. I take his cock as deep as I can, deep enough to get my nose close to his trimmed hair. Despite the recovery from my illness, I’m hungry for him and I drink up his shaft with great passion. I need this. We both do.

“ _Mish, Mish_ ,” Jensen groans over and over. It’s clear that he struggles between the pleasure and the desire to slow me down. His body, however, can’t resist and begins to thrust into me. He places both hands on the top of my head and gently pulls into each thrust. “I-I’m not cumming in your mouth,” he insists, gasping. I spit his dick out and jerk him off with one hand. Staring up, our eyes lock.

“Why not?” I ask.

“Being sick and all, you might not want a strong taste in your mouth.”

“I guess…”

“I just think it’s in your—SHIT!”

I squeeze the base of his dick right as I feel it pulsate and he tightens his whole body up for a big cumshot. Several solid white ropes fly out and splatter on my face and chest. He slams his palms flat against the wall and trembles.

“Hohh…”

“That was nice,” I say rather calmly. Jensen’s face is a tomato.

“You—didn’t—hah--have to—do that—hah—you know—hah…”

“And you didn’t have to get me roses and chocolates.” I neatly put his package away then get to my feet, not before getting the flowers again. “I’m sorry,” I pause for a moment to suppress a cough, “That I dropped them.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” Jensen laughs softly.

I don’t own any vases, but I take the biggest cup I’ve got, prep it for the flowers then stick them into it. I fluff them slightly and leave them on the kitchen counter. “ _There!_ So pretty.”

“I’m thrilled to see you feeling better. You look good.”

“Thanks.”

“Working?”

“I called out again. There’s still too much congestion and I’m tired.”

“Makes sense. I guess you aren’t well enough to do anything?”

“Wish I could jog.”

Jensen puts his hands in his pockets and comes up behind me. Resting his chin on my neck, he speaks quietly into my ear. “No, I mean, you and I go someplace.”

“Like?”

“Anything. Out for a bite to eat or just some fresh air.”

“I want to, and I’ll need to…but I should really stay in. I _am_ getting pretty cooped up, though.”

He rubs my shoulders. I close my eyes and moan softly at the strong, commanding yet gentle touch.

“Do you mind if I hang out?”

“No, not at all. I want you here.”

“Mm. Me, too.”

I feel his lips lightly graze atop the skin on my neck, tickling me. I coo but then laugh nervously.

“What’s up?” Jensen asks in a husky whisper.

“I was just thinking…you know, when you asked to come help me out, I really didn’t want you to.”

“Why? Because of the apartment?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“I already told you, it doesn’t matter to me.”

“But it’s _so small_ and crappy.”

“Okay, sure, it is,” Jensen agrees stiffly. “It’s basically one room, but it’s your one room and I like that. What sort of place would you ideally like to have?”

“Anything but this.”

“No, seriously. What would you love? A bigger apartment or?”

“Hmm…”

I lean back against Jensen and teeter a bit. He suggests I sit down, so we go to my bed and relax. I end up resting on my side and he snuggles up to me in that same spooning position we seem to inevitably end up in. He takes my hand.

“I _do_ really dig apartment life,” I tell him. “It’s nice to be surrounded by people, to not worry about all the things that home owners stress over, but I’d also like a yard.”

“Green thumb?”

“Slightly. Maybe it’s just me being whimsical, but I have early memories of helping my mom garden so it sticks in my head. It’d be nice to have a yard to tend.”

“Agreed. I try to do most of my own yardwork, but hey, when you own a landscaping company…”

“Yeah.”

There isn’t much else to report about the day. Jensen tends to me but we stay inside. I ask if he would mind staying the night even though I’m still sick and he says he’d love to.

“I bet a bath would make you feel better.”

“It could.”

Jensen pats my head then goes to the bathroom and begins filling the tub. He calls for me and I follow. It’s not as impressive to see Jensen sitting in my tiny bathroom.

“Do you have any bath stuff?” he asks.

“No, not really.”

“Oh, well. Maybe next time.”

“After I’m all the way better, next time will be at your place so we won’t even have to worry.”

Jensen looks over his shoulder and smiles at me. “Yeah,” he agrees, stirring the tub. “Undress.”

I do as he says then step over into the tub. He shuts off the water. It’s nice and hot. I lower into it slowly, hissing a bit from the heat.

“Too much?” he asks.

“No, no,” I say, finally sitting comfortably. “It’s good. This heat is nice.”

“Mm okay.”

I lay back against the wall and Jensen begins bathing me. I’m not exactly _surprised_ but I hadn’t considered him doing so. Either way, it’s pleasant. I close my eyes and let his soapy hands rub me all over, listening to the gentle sloshing on hot water. He works his strong palms over my biceps and down my arms, then back up and across my chest. I try to hold in any coughs or sniffs I might have which is easy, since I quickly forget where I am and that I’m sick. Jensen’s touch carries me away.

“How do you feel?” He asks after some time.

“Good. You should come in.”

“Would I fit?”

I sit up and check the tub. “Eh,” I say, shrugging, “Tightly. We can try. Here.”

While Jensen gets naked, I tuck my feet up to my chest so he has room. He steps inside and sits down with his legs bent. We entwine a little.

“See?” I say with a chuckle.

Once we’re comfy, I settle closer to him and tease his waist with my foot. He eyes me.

“I like how you look when you hair up a little,” he says. Since I’ve been sick, I haven’t followed up on shaving anything. At least I’m comfortable enough with Jensen that I don’t feel self-conscious.

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

“You like it _better?_ ”

“I guess I like both,” Jensen says, rubbing both of my legs now. “Smooth is always sexy, but I think some nicely trimmed hair can look incredibly hot on a guy. Like how I keep mine. I trim about twice a week.”

“Hm, okay.”

“Do what _you_ like, not what makes me happy.”

“But I want you to get the most out of my body.”

Jensen clicks his tongue. “I already do, I really dig it. Oof, when you’re feeling your finest again, I’m going to do some wicked shit to you.”

“Wicked?” I ask. My toes curl. “Like what?”

“If I told you then it wouldn’t be as much fun,” he taunts. I sigh.

“Okay, fine.”

“But here’s a teaser—I’ll fuck you raw.”

Our eyes lock for a moment and Jensen flashes a look of unbridled passion. It takes me by surprise, since our conversation had been so light, and I find myself getting hard.

“It looks like someone can’t wait,” Jensen says.

“I can. I can always wait. That just… _happens_ from time to time. You know how it is.”

“Mmhmm.”

He reaches out and cups his hand over my package. I take a deep, sharp breath and lean back, closing my eyes. Ah, Jensen’s touch on my dick. It’s great.

“I bet you’d have a ton of fans if you were a top,” Jensen comments.

“Huh?”

“If you were a top. If you fucked guys.”

“Why’d you say that?”

He wraps his fingers around the base of my shaft and squeezes. I gasp and hold his wrist.

“Because you have such a big cock,” Jensen explains. “I assume any guy who takes it up the ass would love to enjoy this one.”

“It’s not as big as you,” I say meekly. Jensen nods.

“Still big, though.”

“I guess.”

I sneeze.

“Aww,” Jensen coos. Much to my disappointment, he lets off my dick and sits up. “Maybe we should get out.”

“I want those chocolates.”

“Heheh, okay.”

Our romantic bath is over and we both step out. With towels around ourselves, I go back into the main room and open up that box of fancy chocolates. My throat isn’t hurting anymore so at least I can savor something in them.

“You want?” I offer the box the Jensen while I pop one into my mouth. Perfect chocolately goodness. The filling is so smooth and velvety!

“Sure, since you offered.”

Jensen smiles and takes one. I have a few more and draw myself a glass of water. “Can I get you anything?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

“After this I’m gonna get washed up for bed. What do you think?”

“That sounds like a good idea. Are you working tomorrow?”

“Uh huh,” I nod. “I’m definitely feeling well enough to go in. Plus I need the money. Plus I can’t take more time off!”

“If you’re sick, you’re sick.”

Jensen takes his towel off and leaves it in the bathroom. I follow shortly thereafter and we brush teeth together. I like seeing the two of us reflected in my vanity mirror—naked, raw men. Jensen is ruggedly handsome but his eyes are also beautiful in the way that they sparkle. I’m sure he feels the same way about me, only I am a little more naturally feminine (though it might be my demeanor and not my body at all, since I am quite built…).

“Let’s catch some Z’s,” Jensen announces as he leaves the bathroom. We climb into bed and assume the position—Jensen as the big spoon. I snuggle my ass up against him and we hold hands. His lips press against my neck and put a couple long, tender kisses on my flesh. I close my eyes and smile.

“Glad you’re here,” I whisper.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, Mish. Sick or not.”


	12. Chapter 12

You know how your mind goes on those crazy tangents while you’re waking up? You’re between sleep and consciousness and your thought processes run wild. Well, this morning, I think about how interesting it is that people share beds. When we care for another, when we’re married or living together, sometimes just when we’re doing the deed, we sleep in the same bed. That’s nice but also strange. I mean, it’s only a mattress. Why would we both be in one? Being asleep is such a vulnerable state to be in. Maybe that’s the point.

“Mi…Misha…”

Jensen’s wet whispers against my neck bring me to full awakening. I guess neither of us move around much when we sleep, because we’re always in the same position, spooning tightly against each other when I wake up.

I look back at Jensen and smile. His eyes are closed. Morning wood prods my cheeks.

“How you uh…feeling…Misha…?”

“Better.”

“Sleep all right?”

“Great, actually. You?”

“Pretty good. Mmm.”

I decide to reach between us and grab a hold of his cock. It’s strong and ready, even moments after waking up. Jensen purrs like a lion and shifts onto his back, legs spreading. “Jerk me,” he mutters.

“Yeah.”

I roll over all the way so that I can face him, then I switch hands and properly pleasure him. He reaches up to the pillow with both arms, eyes still closed and a blissful expression on his face.

“Is that good?” I tease, working faster. He rocks his hips into my fist.

“Great…won’t take long…ah…so good…”

His face is exquisite, particularly how his eyebrows twitch up and down with the increased velocity of my jerks. His cock is red hot and rock hard, ready to blow at any moment. I reach down and flick my tongue over the tip. He cums forcefully.

“HNNNG! MI-ISH!”

Breathing hard and clutching the covers, Jensen’s chest rises and falls at an incredible rate while I squeeze every last drop of pearly goodness from his dick. He settles and I get up.

“Buhh…baby…cuddle…”

“I have to get to work pretty soon.”

“Argh. Right. Early?”

“Yeah.” I slip into a pair of underpants and Jensen struggles to get up. “You can give me a ride, yeah?”

“Of course. Woah—wait!” I start for the bathroom but Jensen stops me. He jumps out of bed and grabs my butt. “What’s _that?!”_

I look down and quietly state, “Panties.”

“Like women’s panties?”

“Yes…”

“Actually from the women’s department?”

“Yeah, is that okay?”

“Turn around.”

I spin. He licks his lips.

“Damn.”

“Hm?”

Knowing that he likes them makes me prone to show off. I put my hand on my hip and rock them to the side. Jensen reaches out and smooths his palm over my bulge.

“So sexy,” he mutters, eyes fixed on me. He fingers the tiny ribbon at the center of the waistband. “Is this something you’re into?”

“From time to time.”

“Do you own more than just these?”

I grin.

“Sure do.”

“Pack them.”

Jensen gets up in a flourish and heads into the bathroom.

“Hey!” I call out. “Lemme get dressed first!”

“I just need to piss.”

“Okay, fine, fine.”

While he relieves himself, we keep talking. I get dressed.

“Are you feeling well enough to come over to my place tonight?” Jensen asks.

“Yeah, totally. But I want you to pick me up from _here_ , not work. That way I can bring the food you left. And anything else.”

Jensen comes from the bathroom with a grin on his devilishly handsome face. He’s been getting a little scruff outside of his usual goatee. I like that.

“Are you going to stay a couple nights then, I guess?”

I nod, smirking, then go about getting ready. It’s too early for lunch but too late for breakfast, so I eat something quick to get through my shift and Jensen wants to order at the restaurant.

“You don’t mind if I come in, right?”

“Why would I?”

“I don’t know.”

I take his hand. “You’re my boyfriend,” I say, “There’s no shame in that.”

We go into The Four Lights and up to the counter. The guy working goes to check me in.

“And can he order a large Cobb salad?” I ask.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” my coworker says. “For here or to go?”

“To go,” Jensen answers. He pays and I prepare to leave. “Wait up,” he interrupts. “Call me when you’re leaving, okay?”

“I will. Promise.”

We kiss softly and I go into the kitchen. Jeannie, the waitress I’m friends with, flags me down. She’s been watching us through the window in the door.

“What was that?!” she asks in a sharp whisper. “That the Jensen Ackles guy you’re kissing?!”

“Yeah,” I admit, chuckling softly. “He’s sorta my boyfriend.”

“Him? _You_? HIM?!”

“Uh huh.”

“I had no idea! For how long?”

“A little bit. Not long enough.”

“Wow! G-good for you!”

I smile. It feels good to be open about my relationship with the damned near hottest guy in town.

“So that’s why you aren’t clumsy anymore!”

“Huh?”

Jeannie folds her arms and nods. “Clumsy. You aren’t clumsy anymore, ‘cause you got that guy keeping you happy.”

She’s right. I haven’t been as clumsy! What used to be a major detriment to my life is now a thing of the past.

“That’s true!” I say. “I hadn’t even noticed!”

I’m brimming with confidence! My shift goes smooth even though I’m super excited about being with Jensen again. Now that I can barely tell that I’ve been sick, I want nothing more than to enjoy that beautiful big house of his.

Finally everything is ready to go and I’m on the road in Jensen’s Jeep. It’s almost evening now. We have the windows down and a warm breeze blows through the car.

“I have something in the crockpot for dinner,” says Jensen.

“Really? Awe.”

“Yeah, why not.”

We take that long driveway through the trees and up to his house. I sigh contentedly. It’s like coming home after a long, tiring vacation.

As we dine on Jensen’s crockpot dinner, we catch up on TV. His sitting room is great and comfortable and I get cozy with him. The food is delicious. We’re watching a silly romantic comedy. It’s hard to tell if Jensen enjoys it or not.

“I like that idea,” I say. The couple has just done a bit about love coupons.

“The coupons?”

“Yeah!”

“Have you ever done it?”

“No. I mean, okay, they’re pretty silly, but it’s cute.” I admit this with some hesitation but also a smile.

“Then we should do it,” says Jensen.

I finish up my bowl and set it on the end table. “Make love coupons?” I ask to be sure, cuddling up to his chest. He scrapes the bottom of his dish with his spoon.

“Yeah.”

“But what would you put on them?”

He laughs. “Do you even know how they work?”

“Yeah, of course I do!” I say, narrowing my eyes. He sets his dishes down and tousles my hair. I need a cut. “I just—don’t know what I’d put on mine.”

“Hop up.”

I sit up reluctantly, folding my arms as I watch Jensen go around to the stairs.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“Hold on.”

He comes back in a moment with paper pads and pens. He offers one to me. Once I take it, I realize that it’s a book of blank receipts.

“But these aren’t ‘coupons.’” I say.

“Close enough. I know they aren’t very cute, but we can just pretend. I have a ton leftover. We don’t use this kind anymore.”

He clicks open his pen and starts writing on his pad. I get flustered and frown. “What do I write!”

“Whatever you want,” suggests Jensen. “Something that I might like. Something you would treat me to…so, well, not things we would normally do. I suppose they don’t all have to be sexual.”

I’m still stumped.

“You put _Jensen_ in the ‘To:’ field, _Misha_ in the ‘From:’, then where it says, ‘For:’ put what you’d like.”

“I get that. I just dunno what to write.”

“Well, think about an act I’d like.”

I bite my tongue. “But I blow you all the time.”

“Think about something else. Okay, I’ll give you my first one.”

He tears the receipt off and hands it to me. It says, “For: _One sensual, oiled up massage.”_

“ _Ooh!_ ”

“Haha, what?”

I blush profusely. “I wanna cash it in right now!”

“Hey, hold on! It doesn’t work that way.”

“Argh! Then how does it?!”

“We can cash them in on special occasions, like holidays and birthdays, or when one of us is having a bad day, etc. Whenever the other offers one to be cashed.”

“Hm, hm, okay.”

I drum my pen on the receipt pad. Jensen keeps writing more. He’s way too creative.

“I want to take down all of your measurements,” says Jensen.

“My what?”

He’s still writing receipts and I haven’t gotten one yet.

“Measurements. So I can buy you lingerie and cute outfits. Do you like to roleplay?”

“As in bedroom stuff or games?”

Jensen laughs. He writes down another. “Bedroom.”

“No.”

“Would you like to try?”

“Maybe. Anything’s worth a shot, huh? Why do you ask?”

“I’m thinking you’d look sexy in a nurse outfit.”

My cheeks redden more. He writes yet another receipt. I’ve got to get a move on these before he has the whole book filled out.

“Tight around the waist,” Jensen continues pensively, “With garters and stockings, maybe pink.”

I’m getting distracted by those ideas. These receipts need to be done. I look down and stare at the paper.

“For:”

Hm…

_Hm…_

Jensen decides to lean over and whisper to me, “ _You know I like sex and food. Whipped cream. Cake. Your ass. Mm._ ”

I say nothing and keep staring at my paper. Whipped cream and my ass. All right. I can work with that. The gears start to turn in my head and I write several receipts. Jensen calls it a day when he has twenty. While he cleans dinner, I finally catch up.

“Done?”

“Yeah! Now what?”

“Well, I think we should exchange them. Then we’ll look them over and keep them in a safe place until the time is ripe.”

“Okay. Here you go.”

I tear my receipts out and hand them over. I get his, or mine, rather, in return. My heart starts to pound while I read them over. He’s got a nasty, awesome mind.

“ ‘ _One unlimited length facesitting session.’ ‘One tongue bath.’ ‘One prostate massage.’_ Wow, Jensy. This is great.”

“Jensy?”

I shrug. He laughs. “Yours are good, too.”

I put my receipts down and give him a hug. We hold each other tight.

“Cuddle bug?” Jensen asks.

“Yeah. A horny cuddle bug, too.”

“Oh, you want to play around some?”

“I do! I think we need it.”

“Okay. How do you want it?”

“A bath?”

Jensen grins. “A bath sounds great. I’ll go run the water.”

I follow him into the love-nest and get undressed while he prepares the tub. Water runs. I hear him messing around with who knows what.

“Give me a couple of minutes to prepare,” he says. “I want it to be special.”

“Um. Okay, then.”

I sit on the edge of the bed while Jensen preps. What could he be doing? I suppose I could save time by getting myself lubed up and loose right now.

“Ready!”

As I finish, Jensen makes the announcement. Giddy and more than ready, I hop up and go into the bathroom to find the lights off and real candles burning all around the big tub. Jensen’s sitting on the edge. The water is topped with giant mountains of bubbles.

“Oh, wow,” I gasp.

Jensen stands and takes me by the hand. “Let’s get in,” he whispers, smirking. We step over the edge and lower down into the hot water. Senses delighted, I relax into my own side of the tub and close my eyes. “I need this,” I muse.

“Totally. Do you work tomorrow?”

“Early but not long.”

“Good. And will you want to come back?”

“Yeah. I can stay for a while.”

“Even better.”

Jensen folds his arms behind his head and relaxes. I have to open my eyes and watch him for a moment. The candlelit makes his shadow dance upon the wall.

“It was guys bathing together that first made me realize that I liked men,” he comments.

“Really, now? Porn?”

“Yes, exactly. I just happened to look it up out of curiosity, probably because I knew deep down that I had a craving to see it…then boom—I was jacking off to a video of two guys fucking in a tub.”

I smile and tease my toes against his legs. He groans.

“What about bathing that really did it for you?” I ask.

“That’s a good question,” Jensen begins, looking thoughtful despite his eyes still being closed. “I think it was the gentle splashing of the water, the soap suds slathered over their cut, smooth yet masculine bodies…and then how they held each other; moaning, gasping, grinding, grabbing…I always knew that sex with a woman was great and could be intensely passionate, but watching two studs do it took it to a whole new dimension.”

“That’s hot.”

“I thought so. Ooh!”

I run my toes up between his thighs and he jumps. “Problem?” I ask.

“No, it tickled, that’s all. But I like it. Keep going, if you want.”

“But if I keep going I’ll be giving you a footjob.”

His eyes open. They immediately lock on mine and give me a naughty, _naughty_ smile.

“You’re into that?” I ask with a great deal of surprise.

“You have such sexy feet!”

“Aah!”

“Too gross?” Jensen mutters cautiously, but I shake my head and he comes around quickly. I decide to get my ‘sexy’ feet between his legs and paw over his dick. This certainly isn’t in my comfort zone, but it’s just my body and his body. How bad or wrong can that be?

“How’s this?” I ask. Jensen’s head leans back and he lets out a loud, throaty groan. “That good?”

“Your toes are so _ho-ot_.”

“Well, enough of that.”

I pull my legs in and shift so that I’m upright. I wade through the tube and plop myself down into Jensen’s lap, hands on his shoulders and knees to his waist. Our cocks touch.

“Mm. I like this, too.”

“My ass is _pretty_ hungry,” I say.

“Are you all lubed up?”

“Sure am.”

Feeling particularly naughty, I lean down to Jensen’s ear and whisper, “Fuck me, Daddy.”

“Hawww-yeah. That’s what I want to hear.”

I sit down on his massive T-rex prick and he lifts water over my chest, looking up at me with delight. The ripples feel good running down my body. I take his cock all the way, holding my breath.

“Bad little boy,” Jensen purrs.

“ _Good_ little boy. And I’m hardly little, anyway. I’ll be twenty-eight soon.”

Jensen laughs. “Still a little boy to me.”

“Oh, because _you’re_ such—ohh!—an old man? Aah…r-right there!”

He takes my hips in his hands and thrusts upwards at me, holding his tongue between his teeth. The water splashes all around. I flush with heat.

“Almost seven years on you,” he says.

“And _that_ barely makes you a daddy.”

“It’s all mental, babe. Give me a kiss.”

We embrace and kiss full on. I’ve missed this passion. Ah, it’s so great to be feeling better again. Our tongues wrestle as our bodies collide, rubbing together with intense sensuality. I press our foreheads together and release the kiss, breathing heavily against Jensen’s lips.

“You’re a good man,” Jensen moans. “A good, sexy, adorable man.”


	13. Chapter 13

“Um…are we…did you?”

It’s the next day and Jensen is taking me back to his place after work, but he passed the turn. He smiles and firms his grip on the wheel.

“Are you in a hurry to get home?” he asks sweetly. “I want to show you something quickly.”

“That’s fine,” I say, “I’m just confused. What is it?”

“I won’t ruin the surprise. Eh, well, it’s not a big deal for you, but…”

We drive down that road for almost twenty minutes, passing where that farmer’s market sets up and the pick your own strawberries. It’s a hot day but a gentle breeze keeps it tolerable.

“Oh, yeah!” Jensen pipes up suddenly. “I got you a present.”

“Wha? Really? Even after the love coupons and whatnot?”

“That’s little. Look in the back, in the box.”

I turn around and find a round box behind my seat. There’s a sunhat inside, made of pretty, fine straw with a blue ribbon around the base and a big brim.

“Ah! I love it!” I exclaim, putting it on my head. It’s just girly enough to be exciting. Jensen checks me quickly.

“You’ll be the grandest lady in the Easter parade now,” he comments cutely. I smile.

“Thanks. You don’t have to keep getting me presents, though.”

“Might not _have_ to, but I want to. And you deserve the best. Always.”

“I won’t complain.”

“Here we are.”

Out in the middle of the country now, Jensen pulls off down a small driveway that leads to a modest house. There’s a for sale sign in the yard. We park and I look around.

“Come,” Jensen says, walking to my side. He takes my hand as I step out.

“Is…are…”

“Now, I haven’t bought it _yet_ ,” Jensen says, still holding my hand. We walk towards the house. “But I’ve been chatting with the realtor and it looks good. The price is great and I’ll be able to pay cash after the offer on my current place.”

“You have an offer?”

“Yes.”

“It’s already on the market?”

“Mhm.”

“Wow. I had no idea.”

“I don’t want to brag. We can look around. Come, baby doll.”

We walk the perimeter of the house. It’s all one level, not tiny but not huge. There’s a screened in sunroom at the back.

“No pool?”

“Nah,” Jensen says with a shake of his head. “My ex-wife wanted that. Yes, I thoroughly enjoyed it, but I don’t need it. They’re a pain in the ass.”

“This is really what kind of house you’d prefer?”

“Sure is. Look over there. Stables. I was checking out the humane society and they have a horse that I’m real fond of. I want to adopt him.”

“Ohh…”

I look down. Jensen takes my chin in his hand and makes me look up. Speaking quietly, he asks, “Is this okay? Do you hate it?”

“No, I like it a lot. It’s a cute house. It just took me by surprise.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I reassure him softly.

“Just imagine us here. All of this land, all the sun…we can lay in the grass and make love.”

 _Make love_.

I must have a smile on my face that Jensen finds contagious. I throw myself into his arms and give him a kiss.

“Let’s do it right now,” I say.

“What, fuck?”

“Yeah.”

“No, no. Not until I _buy_ the place. Wouldn’t want the realtor stopping by to find two naked guys hanging out on the property.” I frown. “But we can get a feel for it, since we’re here.”

We agree to lay in the grass fully clothed. We’re both on our backs looking up, holding hands. It’s great.

“We’re really in the country now, aren’t we?” I ask.

“Sure are. I love it. Do you?”

“I do.”

“The only thing that your place has over this,” Jensen begins, much to my surprise, “Is that you can’t wake up the city. Do you like to be sleepless in the middle of the night and look out the window? The city never sleeps. There’s always a hushed activity down there.”

I close my eyes and nod. He’s absolutely right, though I never thought of that before. It can be quite comforting to have the bubble of city around me.

All of the sudden, Jensen climbs up on my and pins me down. He straddles me and gives me kisses all over my face and neck.

“Oh, ooh!” I cry. “J-Jensen!”

Then he fucking _tickles_ me. I squeal and squirm beneath him. I’m getting hard. I have a little teeny tickle fetish.

“Aah! AAH! S-stop!”

Laughing, Jensen stops and just stares down at me. We’re silent as I catch my breath. Then he thumbs over my forehead, likely moving a bit of hair out of the way, and he spits out, “I love you.”

“What?”

He looks a little embarrassed as he painfully repeats “I love you.”

My smile fades and soon does his. “Um.”

I want to return the sentiment, I really do, but I just _can’t_. How do I say those words? How can I put myself into this moment? The sky is perfectly clear and the sun is hot. Jensen is watching me with tedious eyes when his admittance, so natural and raw, blurts out with such sincerity that anything I say will just be clumsy. I don’t know how to do it so I stay quiet. Jensen grows increasingly embarrassed and gets up.

“Maybe we’ve been in the sun too long,” he says, shielding his eyes. He offers me his other hand and I get up.

“Sorry.“

“Don’t worry. I--just don’t worry about it.” He tries to smile as we head to the Jeep. “How about I make a frozen pizza for lunch? Late lunch. I have some nice ones I got from Trader Joe’s. Well, I guess they aren’t exactly pizzas, rather tarts but they’re the same sort of thing. You’ll like them, I bet.”

“Okay.”

I keep my head down as I go around to my door. A rock trips me up and I almost fall. No…

“I’m sorry that I—“

“I said don’t worry.”

If only he would let me explain how conflicted I am about confessing my feelings, but he won’t give me the chance. Instead, he pats my leg and forces a smile. “I don’t know what I was thinking. It just sort of fell out of me.”

“It’s okay…”

Now the air between us is suffocating me. There’s an invisible barrier that, while we can penetrate it, the closeness we had before is sucked away. The worst part is that I can’t tell if Jensen is upset that I didn’t say it back, or rather he’s embarrassed and ashamed about his gaff.

We finally get back to his place and he puts the frozen pizza in the oven but I stand on the porch. I feel like a fool. All I have to do is say those three words and maybe everything will be fixed, but…

But I just can’t. How? Do I run in there and yell it? Do I sneak up from behind and whisper it into his ear? And even so, will he reject my statement because he made a mistake by saying it to me first, and he doesn’t actually feel that way? There are too many questions and not enough solutions I can handle. There has got to be something I can do.

“Um…Jensen?”

I step through the backdoor and come into the kitchen. He’s leaning against the island and drinking a beer. An unopened bottle sits next to him.

“Do you want one? Maybe a little smooth sipping can brush this under the rug.”

“All right, then. Thanks.”

I open the beer and take a small sip. He’s staring at the oven with his back towards me. I hesitate to touch him but decide to keep my hands to myself.

“It could be that I’m good at making mistakes,” he mutters.

“Huh? Why do you say that?”

He empties his beer and puts it in the sink, then slowly turns to me. His handsome green eyes are a sad, faded color as he continues to stare down.

“When I met my ex-wife,” he begins solemnly, “I thought I found _the one_. She was it. She was _perfect_. From day one I couldn’t imagine my life without her and I had trouble fathoming that I ever existed that way prior. I was crazy for her and she felt the same. We were unstoppable. Planned on having kids, actually.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, I think it’s fairly common. We would have started on it this year except for the affair she had…”

“Ah,” I nod, looking down now, too, “Right.”

“But it doesn’t matter now,” Jensen continues. He gets himself another beer and checks on the pizza. I guess it needs more time. “She’s out of my life, thank God. Good riddance. I can’t believe how long I was married to her, thinking everything was fine when she was fucking around behind me. It’s ironic how at first I couldn’t live without her, but now I can’t stand the very thought of her being near me.”

I shift on my heels. Where is he going with this?

“Ah, but it doesn’t matter now,” he repeats. “Maybe I’m doomed to make irrational decisions based on my heart.”

That does it.

“Are you trying to say that I’ll leave you?” I ask, hissing almost.

“What? No, I’m just—“

“Because that’s what it sounds like. You got involved with your ex too fast and then she shit on you. Now I’m not perfect enough and you’re having second thoughts?”

I slam my beer down, fold my arms and go for the door.

“Hey! Misha! What the fuck!”

Jensen follows. I leave. My face is heating up and my eyes flood.

“Misha!”

“RUDE!” I yell back.

“Misha, stop! Don’t be stupid.”

“OH! That’s what you think, huh?”

“What the hell has gotten into you all of the sudden?”

I march down his driveway. My mind is clouded with this stupid argument. Jensen is right, even—what _has_ gotten into me all of the sudden? I can’t control the rage. My heart is broken but also confused. I think he was lying when he said he loved me. What can I do? I don’t want to spend the night there now.

“Come back here!”

I freeze in my tracks and turn around. Jensen is a good twenty feet from me. I think maybe he’s crying, too, but now I’m more angry than sad.

“Everything was fine until you said those stupid words!” I yell, gesticulating wildly. “I didn’t say exactly what you wanted to hear and that made you mad! Then you get all bitter and go on this fucking tangent, comparing me to your ex-wife!”

“I’m not comparing you to her! I’m sorry if it turned out that way. I was just trying to explain that I get carried away with my emotions!”

“Get carried away with _this!_ ”

I flip him the bird and run down the driveway, crying loudly. My footsteps are so loud that I can’t tell if he’s pursuing me or not. There’s a hill that takes his driveway down to the road, and as I run down it, I increase in speed drastically. Soon my feet are going faster than I can keep up. I squirm oddly while running. My legs start to give out. Since when have I been clumsy again?!

“MISHA, STOP!”

Jensen’s voice echoes in the back of my head but I don’t give a shit. He’s probably been manipulating me this entire time! Daddy—what kind of man calls himself _Daddy_ to his lover? A sick fuck! That’s who!

“WAAAH!”

My feet slip out from under me and I go tumbling. The street isn’t far, so I try, in the split second that I have, to roll to the side. Unfortunately that goes straight into the trees. I see a big trunk come soaring right at me and I brace myself for a no doubt heavy impact.

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

“Ah…I’m dead…”

With my eyes closed, it feels like the world has stopped. I can’t remember what happened up until now, only that I’m in pain. Argh. A lot of pain. There’s a searing ache on the top of my head, and when I suddenly recall how I yelled at Jensen like a child, my heart hurts, too.

“Being dead isn’t this painful…”

I decide to open my eyes and take a look around. My vision is sore. I clutch my head. There’s an icepack sitting on it. I’m on Jensen’s bed, but the canopy is pulled aside and the room looks lighter than I’ve ever seen.

“You’re up?”

Jensen comes in. He’s holding a mug and looking at me sadly.

“I guess.” I keep the icepack on my head and groan. The pain is excruciating. “What happened?”

“Your clumsy gene reared its ugly head and you took a little tumble into a tree. It knocked you out, but I think it was more the shock than anything.”

“Oh…”

He hands me the mug.

“I made you some tea. It might help. Do you want to go to the hospital? I didn’t think it was serious enough to take you without your consent, but I’ll drive you if that’s what you want.”

“No, I’ll be okay. Thanks.”

I take the tea and sip it slowly while Jensen just sits there and stares at me. The color is out of his eyes.

“I don’t know if it’s the best thing for you to go in to work tomorrow.”

“I can’t miss anymore.”

“Won’t argue with that, but still…health is health.”

“I bet I’ll be recovered in no time,” I say with a sigh. “Maybe, could I have some Tylenol?”

“Sure. I’ll be right back.”

He leaves me to my tea in peace, which I enjoy, though a bitterness remains in my mouth. The whole argument we had has come back to me and that isn’t a happy thing.

“Here.”

Jensen returns with a cup of water and a few pills. I swap the tea for them. He sits on the bed once more and watches me while I take everything.

“Whenever you’re ready, I can give you a ride,” he says.

“I work later in the day tomorrow,” I say, not entirely sure of what he means. I look at him and blink.

“I mean home.”

“Why?”

“Well it sort of sounded like you were breaking up with me, right?”

A small, hushed gasp sounds from my throat. “ _No_.”

“But you—“

“No.”

“And you said that—“

“No!”

I drop the empty glass into my lap and cover my head with my hands. Jensen comes to my head and takes the glass away. I start crying.

“ _Misha_ ,” he coos. “What’s going on?”

“I’m a little bit mental!” I sob. “I don’t know what I was thinking! You said—those words—and I didn’t know how to respond, then you suddenly acted weird and cold and I got even _more_ confused…so when you mentioned your ex-wife, it sounded like I was being a bitch just like her, or—or something! I don’t know! I didn’t know what to say and I—aah!”

“Hush.”

Jensen puts his arms around me and holds me tight. I fall into his embrace and cry louder. So loud.

“It’s okay,” he reassures me, holding the icepack in place with one hand and petting my head with the other. “You don’t need to find an explanation for each and every feeling you have. It was mostly my fault. Yes, I admit that I got cold and distant after I said those words. They fell out of me without any warning, I don’t know why. It felt right. I guess I assumed you would have returned them, but when you didn’t I felt oddly heartbroken.

“Lost in my thoughts, I found myself pondering the early days with my ex-wife. It wasn’t supposed to be a dig at you, I was only commenting that I get overly, stupidly emotional about people. It came out as an attack on you for not saying those words, but I was actually yelling at myself for letting them slip out.”

He takes a deep breath here and holds me silently. I don’t say anything. Why? It feels like he has more to say, which he does.

“I realize now that I _do_ love you. You’re an important part of my life and I don’t want you to leave. But if you don’t love me back, that’s okay, too.”

I cling to him and squeeze, trying to keep my sniffles in but failing miserably. I’m already an emotional basket-case so there’s hardly any point in attempting to keep it back. I look up at Jensen with no doubt bloodshot, tear soaked eyes and murmur, “But I do.”

He stares back at me. “You do?” His question is nearly soundless.

“I do. I…I love you.”

He touches our noses together and smiles politely. “You sure you aren’t just saying that because you think it’ll make everything better?”

“No, I mean it. I’ve been wanting to say it, it’s just _hard_.”

I breathe a sigh of relief and give Jensen a little kiss. It’s a fantastic feeling to know I’ve confessed my love for him.

“I love you, too.”

Closing my eyes, I kiss him again then put my face into the crook of his neck. I inhale his musky aroma.

“I’m always having problems,” I sigh.

“Like what?”

“Getting sick, hurting my head. It seems like I’m constantly lying in bed and having you tend to me.”

“Things happen to people, that’s life.”

He rubs my back.

“My body is a bunch of eggshells!” I complain. “Don’t you get tired of it? Coddling me?”

“Not at all.”

“Isn’t this ‘Daddy’ business kind of fucked up?”

“We can stop.”

“Well…”

“You don’t want to?”

“I don’t—it’s just—feels weird.”

“We’ve talked about this before,” Jensen says. I hear him chuckling. His chest moves. Mm…it’s so comforting.

“I know, but still.”

“You’re a grown man,” Jensen explains. “You’re completely masculine and I like that about you. I know you aren’t _really_ a baby, and I know I’m not _really_ your father. I’m not a pedo and I don’t support incest, but…it’s kink. You _do_ enjoy it, right?”

“Yeah…”

He squeezes me firmer.

“It makes you happy when I baby you?”

Blushing, I whisper, “ _yeah_.”

“Don’t be embarrassed. We’re two consenting adults. Enjoy what makes you happy.”

“Mm…okay.”

“Now that pizza has been done for a while. Do you want me to get you some?”

“Yeah!”

I go to get up but Jensen stops me. “Your head,” he says. I grumble and settle into the bed again.

“Right, right.”

“Be back in a second.”

He returns as swiftly as he left, only this time there’re a couple pieces of the pizza on a plate. He plops down beside me and lifts a slice.

“Want me to feed you?”

I thin my lips, look around, ponder that for a moment then say, “Yeah.”

He takes his time giving me the pizza. The crust is thin so it makes a bit of a mess, resulting in considerable giggles. When the sauce, which is a creamy white one, slips and gets on my face, Jensen leans in and delicately licks it off. After I’m finished completely, he kisses me rather deep.

“I don’t wanna ever break up,” I sigh. My face rests between his hands and he smiles.

“I don’t either.”

“Do you want to cash in one of your love coupons?”

“Not until your head is better.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. You got hit only two hours ago, so you’ll have to take it easy for a while.”

“Bleh!”

“Don’t ‘bleh’ me. It’s for your own good.”

He touches my head lightly and kisses my nose. I can’t help but smile.

“You’re right,” I admit coyly.

“And if you plan on going to work tomorrow, you definitely want to take care. How about you have a bath then go to bed early?”

“Okay.”

“Come.”

Jensen helps me stand and holds my arm as we go to the bathroom. He draws a nice bath for me, splashes in some oil and sets out a clean towel. I undress and get in.

“You aren’t going to come with me?” I ask, sitting down.

“Nah. I’ll just help.”

“Hmm, okay.”

He takes up a bath pouf, lathers it with some fancy soap then begins rubbing it all over me. I let myself relax. Without the icepack I can feel how my head does, actually, hurt real bad. A brief inspection reveals a large bump.

“Sh, sh,” Jensen coos, taking my hand away from the injury. “Let’s not worry about that and just work on relaxing.”

“Ah…”

I close my eyes and let Jensen work my body. Eventually, the bath pouf is replaced by his hands, which massage deeply. He gets between my thighs and carefully cleans around my package.

“You’re being very good,” Jensen whispers just before kissing my neck. I gasp softly and turn into his touch. “How do you feel?”

“Sleepy.”

“All right, let’s get you out and into bed, huh?”

“Yeah. Sounds like a good idea.”

He helps me out and wraps the towel around my body. I go to dry off, but he butts in and does it for me.

“I can do it myself,” I say.

“I know. But I don’t want you leaning over too much.”

“Mmm okay.”

I let him do it. My head is beginning to throb and I’m growing painfully tired. By the time I’m all dried off, I’m practically nodding away, even while standing.

“Come,” Jensen says softly. I take his hands and we go to bed. He undresses, too, and we entwine together naked. I lay with my head on his chest and he holds me tenderly.

“Night,” I whisper.

“Sleep well.”


	15. Chapter 15

 

During the night, we must have moved a considerable amount since I wake up on my side and Jensen is fast asleep on his stomach. His arms are folded under the pillow and his face is tilted in my direction. It’s a happy moment, just watching him sleep. I gently place my hand upon his bicep and rub my thumb in tiny circles, thinking to myself, “This is the man that I’ve chosen to love.”

I can’t help but smile when I follow up with a better, even happier thought—“This is the man who has chosen to love me.”

It’s amazing how far we’ve come. Here I thought Jensen would forever be that handsome, rich man who sits at The Four Lights, occupying all of my fantasies yet nothing more. But now I’m in bed with him. We’ve been in bed for some time. He loves me and I love him. Oh, it feels good to be honest and open with our feelings.

On a whim and possibly a tiny high from being this elated, I lean into Jensen’s face and whisper, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” several times. Then I giggle and stare at his eyes. They’re still closed. He’s out of it, so I then take my hand from his arm and lightly graze over his chin, feeling the short beard beneath my thumb. He twitches a bit and once more I whisper, “I love you, I love you so…”

“Hn…Mi…Misha…”

“Morning.”

A green eye flashes at me and blinks hard. “Head.”

“Mm. Sure. Roll onto your back.”

Jensen chuckles sleepily. “No…I mean…hn…your head…how’s your noggin?”

“Oh! Well, the bump is still there,” I tell him, “And it’s sore. But better, definitely better.”

“Good.”

I press my lips to his temple and keep them there for a moment, enjoying the union of flesh. He nuzzles into my general direction and I decide to put my arm across his back.

“Are you going to work?” he asks.

“Yeah, of course. I can’t miss another day.”

“Your head…”

“--Is fine. My head is fine. It’s just a little bump.”

Jensen grunts deeply and turns to his side. My arm slips a little but stays around him now, and I adjust to be on my side, too, facing him. He touches my cheek, delicately scratching my scalp. “I worry about you,” he mutters with a smile.

“I know. I like that. But I’m fine.”

We kiss, but I think Jensen is keeping his mouth closed out of politeness. I wish he wouldn’t. I don’t mind his morning breath. All of his smells are nice to me (well, almost all).

“I want to stay and cuddle for a while, but I have work I have to do.”

“Home-work or out-work?”

Jensen starts to get up, but not before showing me a smile. “Home-work,” he says. “Some calls and a lot of paperwork. You’re going in later, right?”

“Uh huh.”

He takes a quick shower while I stay in bed. I have the chance to sleep more so I take it, but I only snooze for another hour before my need to be around Jensen forces me up. I get washed in the bathroom briefly then come into the kitchen naked. Surely Jensen got dressed, but I don’t feel like it.

The kitchen doesn’t smell like coffee so he probably hasn’t had a cup yet. I’m getting much better at the Keurig brewer so I fix one for him and some tea for myself. Both mugs go upstairs where I find Jensen sitting in his office. He’s off of the phone, zipping between scribbling onto a form and _thunking_ out letters with his tablet computer.

“Coffee, tea or me?” I ask, holding out the mugs. Jensen turns around and freezes upon seeing me.

“No tea, thanks.”

I give him his coffee then sit on a part of his desk I usually perch. He keeps working, but his eyes flash between the papers and my crotch.

“How do you look so good?” he asks.

“I dunno. A lot of toning? Speaking of, I think I’ll skip my workout today…since you’re worried about my head.”

Jensen kisses my knee quickly. “That’s smart. And thank you.”

“Mhm.”

I sip on my tea and he keeps thudding, thudding, thudding on his tablet computer. Glancing out of the window over his desk, I think it’s going to be a nice day. Since it feels chilly this early, perhaps it won’t be the devastating heat that we’ve been getting lately.

Jensen takes a break for a moment to enjoy his drink. He sits back with the cup in both hands and looks up at the ceiling thoughtfully.

“Something on your mind?” I ask.

“This place hasn’t been on the market very long at all—“

“It’s on the market?”

“Yes.”

“Oh…”

This is somehow a surprise to me, even though I know he’s looking at that farmhouse. I drum my fingers on my teacup. A smirk runs on Jensen’s face.

“I think I have a buyer,” he says.

“Already?”

“Possibly.”

“You’re going to move so soon?”

“Oh, well, it’s not that easy. They just seem interesting. Next they’ll put a bid, there still could be others. If they buy it, we then have to go to settlement. It doesn’t happen overnight. But I need to start packing up.”

“And where will you go?”

“I’m hoping to get that house we were looking at. I’m meeting with my realtor today while you’re at work.”

“Oh…”

Jensen sets down his mug and wheels his office chair so that he’s in front of me. I suck my teeth.

“Don’t look so sad, honey,” he says. His hands go on my knees and rubs gently.

“But I like this house, and you’re already so far from me.”

“It’s not that big of a difference. This changes nothing.”

“But I like this house,” I repeat with a heavy sigh.

“You’ll like the other one more, I promise. It’s not that big of a difference.”

I don’t like that, no matter what he says. This is the house we’ve gotten to know each other in, and it’s big and beautiful and perfect. Why does he have to sell?

“I’m not leaving the state, hun,” he tells me.

“I _know_ , but _still_.”

Things don’t get any easier when he starts packing after the paperwork is done. Apparently he’s been keeping a whole bunch of cardboard boxes aside, and in the blink of an eye, he whips out a stack of them along with a roll of packing tape and suddenly we’re filling them up.

“I’ve scheduled a donation pick-up in two days,” he explains while books go into a box. “I don’t need _everything_.”

I reluctantly help, despite the challenge of knowing which things are packed and which are donations. I have to keep asking him. It’s tedious. I don’t like it.

“I don’t understand this bad mood,” says Jensen.

“I don’t understand this moving!”

“How does it change _anything_ with us?”

I frown and fold my arms.

“It—it _doesn’t_. Not technically.”

“Then what’s the matter?”

“I like this house.”

Jensen sighs. “I’m sorry, Misha. And to be perfectly honest, you’re a little bratty right now.”

I try to loosen up.

“This house has a pool,” I go on to explain. “It has that big, gorgeous kitchen and the incredible master bed and bath. Why would you go through the trouble of walking away to some smaller place when you could just hold onto the one you’ve got?”

As I speak, Jensen nods and nods, then he gets up and comes to my side. His arm goes around me and we lean together.

“I get that,” he says rather softly. “Believe me, I do. Your points are incredibly valid, and don’t think I haven’t already considered them. But you just _have_ to understand that this house needs to exit my life. This shit with my ex-wife _has_ to die. I can’t go on in this manner.”

I frown, head against his shoulder.

“And besides, you haven’t seen inside the new house. Once you do, I bet you’ll feel different. _And_ remember, I haven’t officially bought it yet.”

“Mmh.”

These explanations are hardly filling to my grumpy appetite. I have a poor attitude for the rest of the day, even as I get dressed and Jensen drives me downtown for work. We exchange a brief kiss and I go to start my shift.

“What’s wrong? Something’s wrong. I can tell.”

It’s Jeannie. She flags me down right away and takes me aside.

“Huh?”

“That look on your face tells me something’s up.”

“No, it’s—nothing.”

“Mr. Rich Man giving you trouble?”

I shake my head. “Not like that. Don’t worry about it. Thanks for asking.”

Jeannie isn’t terribly convinced, but I need to get on with my shift so we have little time to discuss it further. The Four Lights gets packed suddenly and I find myself overwhelmed way too fast. Between bussing empty plates, steaming hot dinners, refills, new customers, credit cards and pocketing a few tips here and there, I’m swimming in anxiety. It doesn’t help to remember the bullshit with Jensen selling his house.

“But the pool?” I ask myself. “Why would he?”

“Hey! Misha!”

_Snap, snap, snap!_

Jonesy, a guy that normally works the bar area, snaps his fingers in front of me while I daydream bitterly. I’ve been filling up a soda at the tap and it overflowed.

“Ah! Sorry!”

“No worries, mate, just pay better attention next time, eh?”

“Right…”

Jeannie saw the whole thing and shoots me a very worried expression when we manage to lock eyes. I shake my head and take the refills to their table, trying to avoid a confrontation. I’m simply not in the mood.

But things take a turn for the worse when I return to the kitchen and load a tray with three orders. The path to those customers is rather cluttered. My head is spinning. Why? It’s busy and crazy and I’m worried about Jensen moving. What if he decides to buy a house further away?

“Here’s the Cobb salad, and the fried tilapia—“

“Oh, that isn’t what we ordered.”

“Ah!”

The wrong table! It was bound to happen. I feel a jolt of anxiety twinge through my nerves as I scramble to check what table the orders really are for.

“I apologize,” I tell them. “Your food will be right out.”

“It’s okay!” a woman at the table says.

I ignore her and turn, but I trip over myself and the entire platter goes flying.

“Nooo!”

CRASH!

Salad is tossed into the air.

SMACK!

Tilapia leaves a trail of breadcrumbs everywhere.

SPLOOSH!

Southwest avocado enchilada chowder splatters the floors.

“COLLINS!”

How did my boss catch onto that so quickly? I scramble to clean it all up. He comes over and I stare at him.

“I’m sorry, I’m not—“

“Don’t worry about it,” my boss says, oddly calm.

“Are you sure?”

“Mm,” he nods. “Just get your things and don’t come back.”

“What?”

I blink. Silverware is clinking all around me, but nobody else seems to notice. A patron steps over the spilled soup but only looks at me for a second.

“You’re fired.”

 


	16. Chapter 16

 

“It’s _completely_ unfair!”

I’ve arranged for Jensen to pick me up after my shift “ends”, much to my overwhelming disappointment and his building rage. I sit in the Jeep with my hands in my lap, looking down with little to say. Jensen on the other hand is furious.

“You’ve been on good behavior for a while, right?!”

“Well, yeah.”

“How can they fire you over one incident this far from the last?!”

“I was still given a final warning; one more thing spilled and I’m done. I don’t think that would expire.”

Jensen grumbles loudly. “I _guess_. But it’s pretty fucked up.”

“Haah…”

I don’t have anything to say. This is a painful, devastating blow to me regardless of the practicalities. That job took me a long time to get into, and there’s hardly anything else I can do. I can’t possibly ask Jensen to float me cash to cover my rent, it’s not right.

“Don’t worry,” he says, almost as if he’s reading my mind. His hand pats my thigh momentarily. “We’ll figure everything out.”

“Haah…”

We return to find his house eerily empty. He managed to pack most of everything up, and the furniture is barren and pushed together in groups against the walls. I’m even more unsettled than before.

“Sorry about this,” Jensen says, taking me into the kitchen. “But you know, I _am_ selling the house and I _will_ buy that lovely one over there.”

“I know…”

“Dinner?”

“Nu-uh.”

I don’t feel like doing anything. I should have asked him to bring me back to my apartment. Then again, what good is the place if I have no money to keep it?

“What do you want to do?” he asks.

“Dunno.”

“Maybe cash in some of our love coupons?”

I shake my head. “Sleep, I guess.”

“Okay.”

Jensen is nice and agreeable. Obviously he recognizes that I’m hurting, and not surprisingly so. I quietly get dressed for bed and climb in. The sound system, the candles and the canopy are all gone. We’re just lying in a regular old bed now. The room feels lifeless.

“It’s only for a short while,” Jensen reassures me, once more as if he’s reading my mind. He moves close to me and takes my hand. It’s a perfect comfort. I lace my fingers into his and squeeze gently. “Darkest before the dawn and all of that, hmm?”

I nod slowly. “You’re right,” whispers from my lips.

“Everything will work out, trust me on this.”

“I will.”

* * *

“Yes, good morning. Could I speak with Diane? Thanks a bunch.”

A foggy, nasty sleep comes to a close with Jensen’s voice speaking some distance from me. I struggle to sit up and fumble around in the messy nest the bedsheets have turned into. I can only guess that my hair looks the same. Blinking hard, I see that Jensen isn’t even in the room.

“That’d be great,” I hear him say, most likely into a phone. “My partner and I will be there.”

“Wha?”

I scratch my head hard and roll out of bed. Ouch. My arm is sore. I must have been sleeping on it funny.

“Okay, Diane. See you then. Buh-bye.”

I find Jensen in the kitchen, cellphone to his head, but then he hangs up and smiles at me.

“Morning, cutie pie. Nice hair.”

“Huh?”

I run my fingers through my messy mop, realizing that I really need a cut. I instinctively feel my chin and consider shaving, too.

“Who was that?” I ask.

“My realtor.”

“What’re you planning?”

“We’re going to go look at the new house today. Me and you.”

“When?”

Jensen goes to the Keurig brewer, which is on the kitchen island now next to a box full of K-cup boxes (complicated, I know). “About an hour,” he says casually.

“An hour?!”

Suddenly I’m awake. I run back to the bedroom and scramble to get dressed. I’m really good at taking forever to get dressed and an hour makes me a little bit edgy. After I’m washed, combed out, shaved and deodorized, Jensen comes in with a cup of presumably tea and sits it on the sink counter.

“No need to freak out,” he says coolly.

“But an hour isn’t much time.”

“It’s plenty, c’mon. You’re fine.”

I stare at myself in the mirror for a moment then turn to Jensen with a great wrinkle in my brow. “How do I look??”

“Perfect!”

He kisses my nose.

“I think my eyes are slightly droopy.”

“They always are.”

I glare at him.

“What?” He asks in defense. “They are. You have interesting folds in your lids. They’re cute. I like ‘em.”

“Haah…”

“Since you got dressed so fast,” Jensen begins, smiling big, “Do you wanna go get breakfast at Ed’s Joint?”

“All right. That sounds nice.”

I finish up my bathroom business and we don’t hesitate to hit the road. We’ve been to Ed’s Joint a couple of times now, that roadside hole in the wall that Jensen is so tirelessly fond of. It’s not bad.

We take a booth and Jensen orders more coffee, but I think I just want water. I couldn’t even finish the tea he made me earlier.

“I’m nervous about this house,” I confess.

“Me, too.”

“Are you? You seem so confident.”

“I know it’s going to work _out_ , but changes are always stressful.”

“Then why do it?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do.”

“How do you figure?”

Jensen tightens his jaw. “Babe, I’ve told you a billion times—it’s all about cutting my ex-wife out. This is a new beginning.” He drops his menu and reaches for my hand. “ _Our_ new beginning.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, of course. I figure, well…”

The waitress comes and interrupts us for our orders. After she takes the menus, a particularly funny looking guy enters the restaurant and distracts us. Before I know it, we’re completely off topic and our food has arrived!

“Looks great,” I say.

“Sure does. Dig in, hun.”

I grin ear to ear and begin eating. Oh, it’s fabulous! You know, I think it’s important to have something beautiful and caloric after a bad night. I always try to eat well, but nothing beats a big, sloppy waffle after feeling like shit the day before.

“Okay, we gotta fly,” Jensen says as he pays our tab. “It’s time.”

“Right.”

I’m apprehensive about this whole thing, but as we drive to the house, Jensen seems to be getting excited. It’s still sitting there, the one level rancher with stables way at the back and more than enough acreage. A sedan is also parked out front, which I assume to be his realtor’s car. We get out and meet a thin, older blonde woman who is inside.

“Hi, Diane,” says Jensen. “This is Misha, my life partner.”

_Life partner?_

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Misha,” says Diane, extending a hand to me. I shake it, bewildered. “I think you and Mr. Ackles will be very happy in this house. Would you like a tour?”

“Um. Sure?”

Jensen was right—after I see the place, I fall in love. It’s empty of course and so much different than his current house, but the setup is gorgeous. The kitchen is small but it’s quaint and comfortable, with skylights in the ceiling to let the sun shine down. There’s a big open living room with a fireplace and plenty of room to stretch out. Two bedrooms, a pretty master bath with a big round tub, a separate shower stall and double sinks, and that big sunroom. There’s also a basement.

“Oh, my. It’s bigger than I thought!”

We go downstairs and find that it’s a beautiful, cozy space, more like an apartment. There’s the laundry room closed off on one side, also the furnace with all of that stuff, then a half-bath and two nice rooms for whatever. I bet Jensen will put the pool table and bar furnishings down here—there’s plenty of room for it! And a lovely wood paneling to make it feel cute and rustic.

After the tour, we go back outside and I’m giddy at this point. Jensen takes my hands. “So?” he asks.

“It’s awesome!”

Diane smiles. “That’s exactly what Mr. Ackles thought you would say.”

“You really like it, then?”

“I love it. For you, ‘course.”

“Hm?”

“Well…”

I glance down, but Jensen takes my chin and makes me look in his eyes.

“It’ll be our house, Mish,” he says softly. Diane goes to her car to give us some space. “It’s not my house.”

“What?”

“I want you to live with me.”

“Really?”

“You practically already do.”

“Yeah, but—“

“Ditch the apartment. You don’t like it anyway, right?”

“Not really.”

“Then ditch it. Come here. Do your metal working.”

“But how will I provide?”

“What do you mean?”

I frown.

“I can’t just leach off of you.”

“Misha, I _love_ you. That doesn’t matter. And besides, I want to put some money down to help boost some kind of business for you metal working.”

My eyes widen.

“R-really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Oh, Jensen!”

I hug him real tight. Is this true? Will I be able to achieve my dream of staying at home and making a living off of my jewelry?

“This is our new beginning,” Jensen whispers into our hug. “And our new ever-after, I hope.”


	17. Chapter 17

 

At first I wanted the sale of the house to move as slowly as possible, but now it can’t happen fast enough! There’s a spring in my step as I help Jensen pack up and, knowing that I’ll be moving out of my apartment as well, I’m eager to work.

The next couple of days are just hell. Jensen is in and out doing paperwork for the house on top of his landscaping company, and I’m left alone in the packed-up house. I’ll spare you those boring details and skip to when we finally moved into the new place.

Jensen gave me liberty to set up and decorate to my heart’s content. Apparently his ex-wife was in charge of the first house, since home design isn’t by any means his forte.

“How’s this?”

I come into our new kitchen, where Jensen is unpacking dishes, to show off how I’ve set up the living room. He peeks his head around the side and grins.

“Looks great!” he says. “You put that there?”

He’s referring to the angel painting that used to be in his bathroom. It’s above our fabulous fireplace now.

“Yeah, I think our guests should see him.”

“That’s cool. I like that. Brilliant, babe.”

He kisses my cheek briefly then goes back to putting dishes away. I stand there momentarily, watching how the fabric across his back contracts and stretches when he moves his arms. I’m so lucky.

_Biiing-boong!_

“Huh?” I look up at the strange noise.

“The doorbell.”

“Oh!”

“Must be our first official mail delivery.”

“Oh! I’ll get it!”

I dash off towards the front door to find a large package sitting there. A UPS truck is driving away. I wave to them weakly before realizing they probably didn’t see. Oh, well.

“Jensen! Package!” I come back to the kitchen with the giant box struggling to stay up in my arms. “It’s for you.”

Jensen stands, brushes off his hands and casually says, “No, for you.”

“Hm?”

“Stuff for you. Open it up.”

“What on Earth?”

I put it onto our dining room table and cut it with scissors. Inside I find a whole bunch of clothes. They’re individually wrapped in thin plastic. Jensen looks pleased with himself. I pull the itemized receipt but before I can read it, he yanks it from my hands.

“I see no reason for you to read this,” he explains.

“Um, right?”

A nervous laugh from me follows a better examination of the box’s contents. I pull apart some plastic and remove a pair of lacy, sating panties. My face burns hot.

“What do you think?” asks Jensen.

“Is this all lingerie?”

His arms slip around me and his lips press against my neck. “Mmhmm.”

“I like it. A lot.”

I keep going through the box to find much, much more than just panties—garters and stockings, nighties, and a bunch of other lacy bits with ribbons and soft fabric. I’m overwhelmed by the vast array.

“Nice?” Jensen asks.

“Amazing!”

“Have you ever worn stockings before?”

“No, but I’ve thought about it. Huh. D’you think my legs will look okay in them even if they aren’t shaved?”

“Sure. But if you _want_ to shave them, I won’t stop you.”

I press my lips together. “I don’t think so.”

“Whichever.”

“I’m going to find a good space for all of this in _our_ bedroom,” I announce as I put everything back into the box. Jensen touches my arm.

“Don’t forget to utilize _your_ walk-in closet.”

“’Course.”

I saunter down the hallway with pride, clinging to my box of presents. The master bedroom is of course ours, but Jensen gave me free range access to the second bedroom. That one, in addition to the master, has a walk-in closet that’s all mine. I’m not sure what else I’ll put in that room, since one of the basement rooms has become my metal working space (the other one is Jensen’s new office) and the sunroom is a lovely, pretty hangout for us. Jensen wanted to put a sex sling in it but I told him that would be weird if we have company, and I’ve promised we will have company. I think I’ll grow plants in that room…

My panties go into a dresser drawer, but I’ll hang up the nighties, garters and whatnot in the closet. That way I can really paw through them. Hmm, Jensen would love to see me try some on. Why not now?

There’s a full-length mirror in my room which I take full advantage of today. I struggle to get inside a pair of stockings, clip them to the garter belt and squeeze myself into a frilly pink camisole. I model for myself in the mirror, checking how the lacy garter belt highlights my ass. This is an interesting and thrilling sensation. Jensen comes in.

“What’s taking so—oho!”

I turn around and smile, striking the most coy pose I possibly can, resulting in a very overwhelmed and turned on Jensen. He steps close to me and begins touching all over my body, teasing at the ribbons and running a finger behind each edging of lace.

“I knew you’d look good,” he says, whispering almost, “But _wow_.”

I tip my head to the side and kiss his neck. He takes a deep breath then decides to hug me tight.

“You are _so_ sexy, Misha.”

“Show me,” I say.

“Hm? Show you what?”

Right against his ear, I let my voice muddle down into a gravelly whisper. “ _Show me how sexy you think I am_.”

“Feeling frisky?”

I leap back from his hug and take his hand, guiding him out of my room. “You bet,” I say. “Come.”

Jensen follows my lead back into our bedroom, which has already been set up to the former glory of the old house—the giant bed with the canopy, the sound system, the electric candles—and of course, nightstands full of necessities.

I spring onto the bed and get on my hands and knees, presenting my ass to Jensen with a wiggle.

“Slow down!” Jensen laughs. He takes a thing of lube from his nightstand and joins me on the bed, where he immediately wets my hole.

“Hnng…”

I bend my arms around a pillow and rest my head down, smiling and purring as he pleases me.

“These look awesome on you,” Jensen comments casually while he runs his dry thumb beneath the top of the garter belt. “Smart to go panty-less, too, but did you see some of them have little slots in the butt?”

“I did,” I tell him, “But I thought we’d start simple.”

I feel his lips kiss my cheeks a few times. I melt further into the bed. “Smart,” he says.

“Yeah, that’s how I felt.”

I close my eyes and listen to his movements. He unzips himself and clearly brings his dick out, takes a few moments to lube up, the his hands come to my waist and his erection touches my hole.

“You want this?” he asks.

“I _do_.”

“You want it bad?”

“Mhmm.”

“Did you dress up like a little princess so you could get fucked extra hard?”

I peek one eye open and look back at him as best as I can. He smiles. “I did,” I say.

“Cutie pie.”

He spreads my cheeks with his thumbs and enters. I inhale deeply at the feeling—the feeling I will never tire of. Every time Jensen makes love to me, I find myself experiencing the same amazing sensation of bliss that I did the very first time. It hasn’t gone away and I doubt it will. We just have this connection.

“Mmm…”

Jensen growls as he gets deeper, but once the neatly trimmed base touches my flesh, he goes from tender to aggressive. He pins one hand on my shoulder and the other still grabs my waist, but his thrusts get impossibly hard. His breathing is heavy, aching and wild while his cock destroys my ass.

“Ooooh! J-Jensen!!” I cry out, unable to move much at all. I wiggle and wiggle while he huffs and puffs.

“Th-that g-good for ya?”

“Y-yes!”

Our breathing is short. The room heats up quickly. I feel his fingers messily playing with the camisole straps, but mostly he’s working his cock and focused on that.

“Oh, God!” I cry out.

Jensen slows down now. His thrusts become slow, hard and amazingly fluid. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me up so that we’re both standing on our knees. The roughness of his clothes rubs against my exposed skin.

“Aah,” I sigh, my head tilting to expose a wet neck to Jensen. He kisses it hot but slow, all the while his thrusts rock us together. I can feel his abs working against me. I bring my hands to meet his, which are wrapped around my waist and holding us close. Our fingers interlock as I gasp several times.

“Love you,” Jensen whispers.

“Hnng—love you, too—“

“Go on top.”

He lets go of me, pulling out to my surprise as well, then tosses himself onto his back. He motions with his hands towards his cock, which is brilliantly hard, standing upright with its appealing curve arched towards his tummy. I nod and stand over him, squatting down over the cock. It fits back inside me easily and I bob up and down. Jensen folds his arms behind his head, closes his eyes and smiles.

“Y-you like that?” I ask, working hard. It strikes me in all of those good places.

“Mm…fuck yes…ride it, sweet pea.”

I hump his faster and faster, my breath hitching and sweat running down my flesh. The lingerie is no doubt getting a nice soaking.

“Good?” I ask.

“Mmm…”

I decide to give my legs a rest and put my knees down onto the bed. I sit back on my hands and ride him, looking up now. That’s _fantastic!_ His cock strikes my sweet spot and I cry out loudly.

“Gonna cum?” Jensen asks.

“Ahha!” is all I can say. My head is spinning and my whole body seems to be swelling. Jensen thrusts up into my bobbing now and I go over the edge. He reaches out and holds onto my dick to assist it with its orgasm, which spurts and squirts onto us both. “Hoooh!”

I think Jensen cums, too. His body shakes and he grunts and grunts. The panic fades quickly and I somehow manage to flop forward with our stomachs together. Jensen puts his arms around me. My head rests into his damp clothes.

“Pretty special,” he remarks.

“Mmm…”

My heart is pumping fast and, judging by what I can feel, his is, too. We cuddle in our sticky afterglow for a few minutes.

“We should probably keep decorating,” I whisper.

“It can wait.”

“But it’s not all done yet.”

“So?”

“Haah…”

I get off of Jensen and straighten my lingerie up. I’m a sticky mess with all of our seed. Maybe a shower is in order.

“I guess I’ll finish putting the dishes away,” says Jensen. He gets up tiredly and puts his member away while I look.

“I love you,” I say in a tiny voice, heading towards the bathroom. He grins.

“I love you, too, Mish. Going to take a shower?”

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute.”

I wash quickly and get into a robe, then find Jensen not in the kitchen but rather the sun room. Some of the deck furniture that he saved from the old house has gone into here. He stands with his back towards me, looking out into the yard. I come behind him and touch his arm.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“Nothing. What?”

“What are you looking at?”

“Considering what I want to do with the land.”

“Horses, right?”

Jensen smirks and looks at me. “Yes,” he says happily. “They’ll be my little project, but you’re welcome to help if you’d like.”

“It could be fun.”

“It’s a lot of hard work, too, but I think it pays off. And maybe we can have a dog.”

“A dog?” I hold his hand now. “Why a dog?”

“Is that a problem?”

“No,” I say, shaking my head, “I just haven’t heard you ever mention that.”

“I’ve been thinking.”

“Okay, then. We could start with a dog. They’re easier than horses, huh?”

“Yep.”

We say nothing for a moment. Jensen squeezes my hand a little harder but we both keep looking out into the yard. Evening is approaching and the sun casts golden rays across the endless grass, sending a few long shadows from the empty stables.

“I haven’t died, right?” I ask softly. Jensen chuckles.

“What? What sort of question is that?”

We turn to face each other. “Well,” I begin to explain, “This is so perfect I think I may have died and gone to Heaven.”

“Mish, if you keep this up, you’ll turn into a giant cornball.”

“Nu-uh!” I laugh. He kisses my nose. “It’s true! I never thought my life would go this direction.”

“ _You aren’t dead_ ,” Jensen reassures me with a rub on both shoulders. “Promise.”

“I didn’t _think_ so, but, well…”

“Shh. Are you hungry?”

I blink. “Yes?”

“You said you want to learn how to cook better, right?”

“Uh huh.”

“So you can be more of a house wife?”

“Uh—wait, wife?”

Jensen nods.

“I guess?”

He immediately heads off towards the kitchen. “Then let’s cook dinner together.”

I stay in the sunroom for a moment while he disappears. What did he mean by house wife? Was that just an expression, or…

You know what? I won’t worry about it. When he’s ready to tell me, he’ll tell me. As for now, I’ve got the most amazing relationship, perfect opportunity to follow my dreams and an awesome, incredible house. I think I can learn to cook, too, and take better care of my man.

“ _Misha-aa! Are you coming?_ ”

I chuckle to myself.

“Yeah!”

The rest of my life is waiting for me. Better not keep him waiting!

 

**~*~The End~*~**


End file.
